


Rearviewmirror

by irrationalgame



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: AU, Domestic Violence, M/M, Modern AU, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21770995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrationalgame/pseuds/irrationalgame
Summary: On a road trip, Jimmy, Alfred, Ivy and Daisy pick up a mysterious hitchhiker named Thomas. He’s definitely running from something - or someone. Can Jimmy figure out what’s going on - with Thomas and with himself - before it’s too late?Modern au.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Comments: 7
Kudos: 114





	Rearviewmirror

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this fic references domestic violence and there are a couple of violent scenes.
> 
> Title: inspired by the song of the same name by Pearl Jam

Jimmy shuffled around the petrol station, picking up overpriced crisps and bottles of fizzy liquid indiscriminately.

“You can’t eat that in me car,” Alfred said, bumping his shoulder against Jimmy’s. “You’ll make crumbs.”

“As if it matters,” Jimmy snorted, “your car is fit for the scrap heap anyway. I doubt a few crumbs are going to make a difference.”

“At least I’ve got a car,” Alfred jibed and Jimmy was about to put him down with a stunning comeback when Daisy intervened.

“Will you two give it a rest?” she rolled her eyes. “We’ve only been on the road for an hour and you’re driving me mad.”

“I’ll remind you that I never wanted to come on this trip in the first place,” Jimmy pouted.

“Oh cheer up,” Ivy said, linking her arm with Jimmy’s. “It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”

“I shan’t hold me breath,” Jimmy replied.

Alfred paid for the petrol and assorted snacks, then everyone piled into the car – Jimmy took the front passenger seat without offering it up to either Ivy or Daisy. It wasn’t very gentlemanly behaviour, but then Jimmy didn’t think himself a gentleman in any sense of the word. He was, in his own mind, a loner and he did little to seek the company or companionship of anyone. He needed none; he’d been orphaned and learned to rely only upon himself. That did not, however, stop others from seeking him out; as much as he’d tried to remain distant and as many barbed words as he’d thrown, he’d still attracted the friendship of the guileless Alfred, and by association, Ivy and Daisy.

Jimmy supposed it had been an impossible idea to get through life without people forming some sort of attachment to him. That was the thing about people; they congregated and clung together as if it were the only meaningful pursuit. And Jimmy, with his golden hair and tanned skin and easily faked pleasantries (when it suited him, of course) attracted many ‘friends’, although they never persisted like Alfred had. Jimmy supposed Alfred was too dim to be put out by Jimmy’s unkind words or cruel behaviour.

Jimmy sighed and put his feet up on the dashboard; Alfred was concentrating on driving, his eyes pulled into a squint, his shoulders hunched. Daisy and Ivy were poring over a fashion magazine they had picked up at the garage, giggling and pointing and being _girlish_. Jimmy turned on the radio so he didn’t have to listen to them – if there was anything he understood less than friendship it was romance. And women. Women liked Jimmy, that was not the problem – they flocked to him, fawning and falling over themselves to flirt with him. Jimmy could appreciate the beauty of them, but it did not overawe him as it did other men of his age. Alfred, as a prime example, was directed only by two things; his obsession with becoming a chef and women. Or rather one woman – Ivy. No, if Jimmy was honest with himself, he felt no stirring excitement at the appearance of _any_ woman.

He had, of course, had his dalliances with women – he was now well into his twenties after all and not completely naive. Jimmy had tried on numerous occasions to go further than a kiss or a fumble, but the thought of women’s breasts and slim thighs and petite bodies did not pique Jimmy’s arousal as he thought they should. It had struck Jimmy that perhaps he was _gay_ , but he was reticent to explore the possibility of his latent homosexuality when really, he was thoroughly disinterested in romance. Truly, the whole business of intimacy repelled Jimmy – he’d never met a woman, or a man for that matter, he’d wanted to be with for more than a night. Even those nights were few and far between, and usually a result of imbibing a little too enthusiastically.

Jimmy supposed that was just his particular design; to be wholly dispassionate for people. If anything, it was a far less complicated (if sometimes deeply frustrating) existence and it didn’t particularly bother Jimmy – but he was loathe to be thought of as odd or different, in case that somehow led people to think him at all _inferior_. Thus, Jimmy kept up the pretence; he flirted and faked and gave the impression of normalcy because, unsure of some parts of himself as he was, there was one constant in Jimmy’s mind – he was not inferior.

And so the pretence had, somehow, led to Jimmy being coerced into taking a road trip with Alfred, Ivy and Daisy. It had been Ivy’s idea to hire a seaside cottage, despite it being the middle of a wet and inclement autumn, so the four of them could have a week at the coast. Seeing as Alfred was ridiculously enamoured with Ivy he’d jumped at the opportunity to spend an entire week with her. Daisy, Ivy’s intermittent best-friend (when they weren’t arguing about men), had been dragged along and as she harboured a supposedly ‘secret’ crush on Alfred, she hadn’t put up much resistance. Jimmy was merely there to ‘make a four’, as Alfred had reminded him many, many times before they’d left, paranoid that Ivy still had feelings towards Jimmy. Jimmy doubted that very much, seeing as their brief period of ‘dating’ had ended with an apparently inappropriate suggestion on Jimmy’s part and an ostensibly justified slap from Ivy.

“Are we nearly there yet?” Jimmy moaned, flicking through the radio stations in search of something good. He had few passions in life, but one of them was music. Jimmy could play; guitar, piano, drums – probably other things too if he turned his attention to them, and he could sing. He’d entertained the idea of being some sort of musician, but being orphaned had put his plans on hold – it had been a case of finishing college and getting a job. His parents had left him enough money to get by for a while, but it would not last forever and he’d had vague notions of investing what was left rather than spending it on the necessities of life.

Hence, Jimmy had taken a job waiting tables at the Downton Restaurant, a fine country establishment in Yorkshire, where he’d met Alfred, Ivy and Daisy. Somehow he’d ended up sharing a house with them too. He liked to pretend it was a merely practical thing, just to save some money on rent and bills, but there was a certain comfort that come from coming home to a warm and lived-in house. He’d rented an apartment alone for a short while after he’d sold his parents house, but he found it had given him rather too much time to think. And when both of your parents have just died and you’ve been officially declared an orphan, the last thing you need to do is think too deeply. In all honesty, Jimmy tired to avoid thinking too deeply about anything at all.

“No,” Alfred replied, “it’s hours yet an’ the weather aint makin’ life any easier.” In Alfred’s defence it was raining heavily, the drops drumming on the windscreen and blurring the orange streetlights.

“This was a stupid idea,” Jimmy huffed, “a beach holiday in November.”

“Well excuse me for trying to be spontaneous,” Ivy chirruped. “And anyway, it’s not about the beach so much as a change of scene.”

“And drinking,” Alfred interjected.

“And dancing,” Daisy added.

“Ugh, kill me now,” Jimmy groaned, although the drinking part sounded bearable, and everyone liked dancing.

“That could be arranged,” Alfred joked, sharply pulling the steering wheel to the left and sending Jimmy crashing into the passenger window.

“ALFRED!” Daisy and Ivy screeched in unison, and Alfred righted the steering wheel, a stupid grin on his face.

“Bloody hell Alfred,” Jimmy growled, “not funny.”

“Oh come on,” Alfred said, “I’m just trying to have some fun! Maybe we should pick up that hitchhiker – that’ll make the trip more interesting!” Alfred slowed the car down to a crawl and Jimmy peered out of the rain-spotted window; sure enough, there was a tall, dark-haired man at the side of the road, a rucksack on his back, attempting to thumb a lift. The cigarette in his mouth cast a soft glow over his face; he looked sodden and thoroughly miserable.

“Alfred, no!” Daisy squeaked. “Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie?”

“Don’t be daft,” Alfred said, “he’s just a regular guy lookin’ for a lift.” Alfred pulled the car over, choosing to ignore the protestations of Ivy, Daisy and Jimmy. “Jimmy, roll your window down.”

Jimmy hesitated, but the man was already making his way over to the car, casting aside his half-smoked cigarette. “Err, hi,” Jimmy said, opening his window.

“Hello,” the man replied, peering in to the already-full car. “You sure you have room for me?”

“It is a bit of a squeeze back here,” Daisy said, but Alfred lumbered on regardless.

“Course we do,” Alfred grinned, “Jimmy will get in the back with the girls, wontcha Jimmy?” Jimmy was about to protest but the hitchhiker caught Jimmy’s eye and gave him such an imploring look that Jimmy acquiesced.

“Sure,” Jimmy shrugged, opening his door and stepping out into the rain. His legs and back were stiff from sitting in Alfred’s tiny car, so he took the opportunity to stretch his limbs, noting how the hitchhiker’s pale grey eyes followed his movements.

“I’m Thomas by the way,” the hitchhiker said, holding out his hand for Jimmy to shake. His knuckles were red and scarred with old injuries. Jimmy obliged, surprised at the tingling Thomas’s touch left on his palm.

“Jimmy,” Jimmy replied, “and that’s Alfred driving, and Ivy and Daisy in the back.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Thomas said, settling into the front seat. Now he was in the lit interior of the car Jimmy could see how handsome Thomas was; his hair was so black it seemed to absorb the very light itself and lay in stark comparison to his porcelain skin. His features were sharp but attractive; he couldn’t be more than thirty, but his eyes seemed old and there were a few flecks of grey in his hair. Jimmy could also, however, see the yellow-green of a fading bruise around Thomas’s left eye socket, and the silver streak of a healed cut at the corner of his mouth.

“Jimmy are you getting’ in or what?” Daisy prodded, “You’re letting the rain in.” She had moved into the middle so Jimmy could take the seat directly behind Thomas.

“Where you headed then?” Alfred asked and Thomas shrugged in reply.

“Anywhere that’s not here,” he said, plugging in his seatbelt. “What about you – on a road trip?”

“Yes,” Jimmy answered, “we’re going to the seaside.”

“Nice weather for it,” Thomas smiled and Jimmy couldn’t help but laugh derisively.

“Wasn’t my idea,” Jimmy snorted.

“No, it was mine!” Ivy snapped, “And it’s a _lovely_ idea, isn’t it Alfred?”

“Yes, course it is,” Alfred nodded enthusiastically.

“Ah, so it was your girlfriend’s idea?” Thomas said, turning in his seat to speak directly to Jimmy. As he twisted, Thomas’s scarf unwrapped itself and Jimmy noticed newer, purple bruises at Thomas’s throat, just the right size and shape to have been made by someone’s fingers. Seeing Jimmy’s eyes on his neck, Thomas quickly adjusted the scarf, once again covering his injuries.

“No, no, no,” Jimmy shook his head vigorously, pretending not to notice. “Ivy is not my girlfriend.”

“No need to sound so disgusted,” Ivy said, folding her arms defensively.

“Then Daisy…?” Thomas started, but Daisy looked so aghast he didn’t have to finish his question. “Oh I see,” Thomas grinned, showing a flash of his white teeth, “so it’s Jimmy and Alfred then?”

“No!” Jimmy exclaimed and Alfred protested so intensely he nearly veered off the road.

“No one in this car is dating anyone,” Daisy clarified.

“Well,” Thomas turned his smile on Daisy, “that’s certainly good to know.” And he threw her a wink. Daisy turned a neon shade of pink, Ivy huffed and looked out of the window, and Alfred remained happily oblivious. Jimmy could scarcely believe it; that of all the passengers, Thomas would want to wink at dowdy little Daisy.

Not that he was jealous.

That definitely was not the case.

~

An hour later and the car was silently cruising along the motorway – Ivy was still sulking over something, Daisy had given up haplessly trying to engage Alfred in conversation and Thomas had closed his eyes, apparently asleep. Jimmy couldn’t help but stare at Thomas’s reflection in the windscreen; his hair had dried and fallen over his brow and his mouth had dropped open a little. He looked peaceful with his features softened by sleep. Jimmy wondered what Thomas was running away from – a person who is happy to hitchhike to an unknown destination is probably running away from something. And then there were the bruises and cuts about his body; Jimmy mused that if he were to strip Thomas of his layers he’d likely find more injuries. Perhaps Thomas was running away from someone rather than something.

“I need to take a leak,” Alfred announced suddenly, pulling the car over into the exit lane. “I’m going to stop at the services.” Thomas stirred and sat up, yawning. Alfred found a space on the car park and everyone emptied out of the car, Thomas included. He instantly stuck a cigarette between his lips and followed behind the group, blowing little clouds of noxious smoke into the night.

“Can I have one?” Jimmy asked and Thomas obliged, leaning in to light the cigarette with a battered silver zippo, his hands brushing against Jimmy’s as he cupped them against the wind and drizzle. And there it was again, that spark, that little patch of warmth that persisted on Jimmy’s skin where Thomas had touched him. It was strange; Jimmy wasn’t sure if he was aroused by Thomas or afraid of him. It wasn’t as if he was struggling with a barely controllable urge to kiss him or anything like that, but he wanted – he wanted _something_ from him, even if he wasn’t sure what. Ivy, Daisy and Alfred made their way into the shelter of the brightly-lit service station, whilst Jimmy and Thomas joined a small group of wind-blown smokers under a large parasol.

“Bloody no-smoking laws,” Jimmy griped, more for something to say than through any real sense of anger.

“Tell me about it,” Thomas raised an eyebrow, “I remember when you could smoke in the pub. Now those were the days.”

“You really don’t know where you’re going?” Jimmy asked, apropos of nothing.

“I really don’t,” Thomas replied, “and it’s better that way.”

“Isn’t that…scary?” Jimmy studied Thomas’s face, but his expression was irritatingly neutral.

“Less scary than staying back there,” Thomas answered and Jimmy’s heart wrenched at Thomas’s tone; he was afraid, even if he pretended he wasn’t.

“Is – is someone hurting you?” Jimmy put his hand on Thomas’s arm, but Thomas flinched and pulled away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered darkly, flicking the remainder of his cigarette across the tarmac.

“I saw your neck, and you can tell me, I – I want to help you, I,” Jimmy started, but Thomas cut him off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated, “and I don’t need your help. I just wanted a ride, that’s all.”

“Ok, I’m sorry,” Jimmy shook his head. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Alright,” Thomas nodded curtly and then changed the subject. “Where are you all headed for your week away?”

“Err, Robin Hood’s bay, just outside Whitby,” Jimmy shrugged. “I have no idea what it’s like, Ivy booked it all. We’ve hired a little cottage on the coast.”

“Sounds nice,” Thomas smiled, watching Jimmy as he dragged on the butt-end of his cig. “Cosy.”

“Not really,” Jimmy shrugged and stubbed out his dying smoke. “I got roped into it to be honest. I’ll just be in the middle of a love-square.”

“Love square?” Thomas looked bemused.

“Ugh, it’s stupid,” Jimmy sighed. “Daisy likes Alfred and he likes Ivy and Ivy likes me. It’s so tedious.”

“And who do you like?” Thomas asked quietly.

“No one,” Jimmy sneered, “none of that lot at any rate.” Thomas just smiled, seemingly pleased that Jimmy was unattached.

“Ready?” Ivy said, appearing out of the service station doors with the biggest coffee Jimmy had ever seen.

“Sure,” Jimmy replied.

“SHOTGUN!” Ivy shouted suddenly and ran over to the car with Alfred in tow.

“You can’t just call shotgun,” Daisy moaned.

“I can and I have,” Ivy replied, collapsing into the front passenger seat.

“FINE,” Daisy huffed and plonked herself in the seat behind Alfred. That meant Thomas and Jimmy would have to sit next to each other and from the look Daisy was giving him, Jimmy gathered he’d be sitting in the middle seat. He slid in with only a little whinging and Thomas sat next to him; to say Alfred’s car was small would’ve been an understatement, so they ended up pressed together from shoulder to knee out of necessity. They’d barely made it off the car park before Jimmy was overcome with a sudden claustrophobia; his hoodie too tight and his seatbelt too restrictive.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” Jimmy moaned. “Turn the bloody heating off will you?”

“Can’t,” Alfred replied, “it’s broken. Stuck on.”

“Ugh,” Jimmy grimaced, “typical. Open a window then.”

“S’raining,” Daisy shook her head. “I’ll get wet if I open a window, won’t I?”

“Then you’ll have to get wet,” Jimmy leaned over Daisy and tried to open her window, but she smacked him over the head and positioned herself so she was blocking the handle.

“Gerroff me Jimmy!” Daisy squeaked, slapping at Jimmy’s hands.

“I’ll open the window,” Thomas said coolly, rolling it down half-way. “Look, is that better?”

“No,” Jimmy huffed, unclicking his seatbelt. “Need to take my hoodie off or I’m going to die.” Jimmy attempted to remove his hoodie but there really wasn’t enough room in the cramped back seat for such a manoeuvre, and he ended up stuck somewhere inside one of the sleeves until Thomas finally helped him out of the tangled fabric. “Thank you,” Jimmy blushed; he had apparently reverted to a five-year-old who couldn’t undress himself.

“Pleasure,” Thomas breathed. There was something in the way he said the single word that made Jimmy’s blush intensify.

“Seriously,” Daisy squeaked, “are we nearly there yet?”

~

The tiny car pulled up into a supermarket car park in a wind-swept Whitby almost forty minutes later. It was getting late and all Jimmy was interested in was eating something and going to bed, but the rest of the party had other plans.

“We need to pick up the cottage keys first,” Ivy commanded, checking off points on her fingers. “Then we should get some food and drinks and head up to Robin Hood’s Bay.”

“Beer,” Alfred said, “we need to buy beer.”

“And cake,” Daisy added.

“This is where I’ll leave you then,” Thomas shrugged on his rucksack and lit a cig. “Thanks for the ride and…it was nice to meet you,” he said, his eyes squarely on Jimmy.

“You’re going?” Jimmy said, unable to hide his disappointment. “You could come and have a drink with us, if you like?”

“Thanks, but I should be on my way,” Thomas grinned, “I’ll leave you to your domesticity.” He turned, the cigarette still glowing between his lips, and walked into the night.

~

Keys acquired and supplies purchased, Jimmy and co tumbled into the cottage just as the weather turned from bad to worse, their arms full of luggage and groceries. Jimmy dropped his bags on the floor and surveyed the cottage; the open plan ground floor was modest but cosy, with thickly padded sofas arranged around a small fireplace. He instantly spotted the little upright piano tucked away in the corner - it was an antique Schiedmayer, probably out of tune and just there as decor. He’d have to engineer a way to get rid of everyone at some point so he could see if it was playable. He’d only played his small electric piano since he’d moved into the shared house and he always wore headphones - his music was his, and he found it uncomfortable sharing that part of himself. He used to like playing for people but - well, it always made people want to spend more time with him and his housemates didn’t need any encouragement in that area. Ivy and Daisy put away the shopping in the compact kitchenette whilst Jimmy and Alfred lit a fire in the hearth. The wind whipped around the building, whistling in through any crack or gap it could find and smashing heavy raindrops against the windowpanes.

“Looks like we’re goin’ to be stayin’ in tonight,” Alfred moaned, gazing out into the night. Jimmy nodded, warming his hands by the fire. His mind wandered to Thomas; where was he staying tonight? He obviously wouldn’t have booked a room, having no idea where he was going in the first place.

“Do ya’ think that hitchhiker will be sleeping outside in this?” Ivy asked, peering out of the window – the cliffs beyond the pane were enveloped in a blanket of stormy night.

“I hope not,” Daisy said, “that’d be awful.”

“We should have asked him to stay here,” Jimmy said, offhand.

“You’ve gotta be kidding, right?” Alfred guffawed. “We don’t know him from Adam – he could be a serial killer!”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not,” Jimmy scowled, “he seemed nice. And – I dunno, sad. It were your idea to pick him up at any rate.”

“I wonder what could make a person do that? Y’know, just up and run away from everything? Daisy mused.

“Something bad,” Jimmy said, “or someone bad.”

~

The following day proved to be similarly wet and unpleasant but the thought of spending another twenty-four hours locked in with Ivy, Daisy and Alfred was giving Jimmy cabin fever. Thus, Jimmy begged and pleaded with everyone to go out despite the weather, until they yielded and agreed to take a trip into Whitby. The weather there was no better and the harbour was pretty much abandoned, so they headed to the arcade to waste time and money on games, and to shelter from the rain.

“I’m going to win something for ya’ Ivy,” Alfred stated confidently.

Jimmy rolled his eyes; “I’m sure Ivy’s always wanted a rubbish soft toy from an arcade – it’s her dream come true.”

“Oh do stop bein’ nasty’,” Ivy twittered, “I think it’s very nice of him – I bet Alfred will win one for me and for Daisy, wontcha Alfie?”

“Er, alright…” Alfred shrugged and he lumbered inside with Ivy and Daisy in tow. Jimmy leant against the damp brickwork and lit a cigarette; he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the gentle rain and the lapping of the waves, pleased to have a moment of peace.

“We will have to stop meeting like this,” said a familiar voice – Jimmy’s eyes snapped open to see none other than the hitchhiker, Thomas, standing next to him, smoking. “People will talk.”

“Not around ‘ere they won’t,” Jimmy smiled, surprisingly pleased to see the other man. He gestured to the deserted street; “No one here to notice.”

“It’s not exactly seaside weather,” Thomas replied, blowing a plume of smoke.

“Did you find somewhere nice to stay?” Jimmy asked – Thomas’s hair was soaked and dripping, his lips chapped; it looked as if he’d been out in the storm all night. It was stupid really – they barely knew each other, but for some unknown reason Jimmy found he cared – he actually cared if Thomas had slept rough.

“Well…” Thomas hesitated and gave an indifferent shrug, “I’ve slept in better places, that’s for sure.”

“You didn’t stay in a B&B, did you?” Jimmy frowned, casting off the end of his cig.

“Not exactly,” Thomas looked away, “no room at the inn, so to speak.”

Jimmy knew it was a lie – it was out of season and practically every B&B he’d passed had a ‘vacancies’ sign hanging in the window – but he played along anyway; if Thomas’s pride wouldn’t let him admit to his dire situation, Jimmy certainly wasn’t going to take that away from him.

“You could stay with me – with us I mean – in the cottage,” Jimmy fumbled over his words, the warmth in his cheeks indicating they had flushed an embarrassing shade of red.

“Ah,” Thomas shook his head, “I don’t think your friends would like that.”

“Sod ‘em,” Jimmy pulled a face. “It’s not up to them.”

“I – I don’t need charity Jimmy,” Thomas started, but his voice cracked. He flicked his cig butt across the pavement and lit another with shaking hands.

“S’not charity,” Jimmy shrugged, “you could pay me back later, y’know? I – I just want to help you.”

“I don’t know – we don’t even know each other,” Thomas leant back against the wall, his pale eyes gazing up at the tumultuously clouded sky. “You could be an axe murderer or something. Hell, I could be an axe murderer.”

“So let’s get to know each other,” Jimmy paused for a moment, wondering at his own motivations – Jimmy never went out of his way to help anyone, let alone a stranger. But there was something about Thomas that made his insides feel like they were made of hot jelly and if he were to stick around for a while, well, that wouldn’t be so bad. “I’m starving – how about we get some lunch and if we get on ok and neither of us are axe murderers, you stay with us at the cottage tonight?”

Thomas frowned; “I don’t want to cause trouble for you Jimmy. I, er – I have a lot of baggage.”

“That’s ok,” Jimmy smiled benignly, “the cottage has loads of space.”

“Very droll,” Thomas smirked and then threw up his arms, defeated. “If you insist Jimmy, lunch it is.”

Alfred appeared in the doorway. “Did someone say lunch?”

~

Lunch turned out to be cheap fish and chips at a local greasy spoon, but it was edible and the café was warm and dry. Ivy wittered on endlessly about the amount of calories in chips, Alfred explained in intricate and incredibly dull detail how he’d improve on the recipe and Daisy sat between them, unable to get a word in edgeways if she’d wanted to.

“They’re err, lively,” Thomas inclined his head towards the rest of the party.

“That’s puttin’ it politely,” Jimmy sneered, “I only ended up with them because we work together.”

“I was wondering,” Thomas said. He had polished off his fish and chips (that Jimmy had paid for, despite Thomas’s protestations) with the eagerness of a man who hadn’t had a good meal for a while. Under the harsh strip lights of the café his pale skin was almost transparent and his eyes were swathed in dark shadows. Jimmy noticed more hairline scars on his face and hands – Thomas had definitely been through the wringer, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“Are you enjoying the delights of the Yorkshire coast?” Thomas said, sipping his tea.

“S’not really my idea of fun,” Jimmy replied. “I’m not sure how I got talked into coming. I’m glad I did though.”

“Oh,” Thomas smiled, his eyes on Jimmy’s, “why’s that then?”

“Well meeting you has been interesting, for a start,” Jimmy said.

“I’m not all that interesting,” Thomas shifted in his seat and his knees pressed against Jimmy’s under the table – Jimmy’s stomach took to acrobatics and he swallowed hard. By all rights he should move away, he shouldn’t encourage those kinds of feelings, but he just couldn’t.

“If you’re really going to be staying with us tonight,” Ivy interrupted, “maybe you should tell us about yourself?”

“Not that much to tell really,” Thomas shook his head.

“Where are you from?” Daisy asked, “I’ve not seen you around Downton.”

Thomas faltered for a moment, uncomfortable at being asked personal questions, before schooling his face into an unreadable expression. “I’m from Manchester but I’ve lived in the Downton area for a while – I was living in Ripon but, well, it wasn’t working out,” he said offhandedly.

“Fall out with yer girlfriend did ya?” Alfred grinned gormlessly.

“You could say that,” Thomas answered, “things between Philip and I were always…strained.”

“Philip?” Alfred muttered dully, before blushing at the realisation.

“Oh!” Ivy gushed, “You’re gay? That’s wonderful! Why didn’t you say?”

“My sexuality isn’t the most interesting thing about me,” Thomas replied coolly and Jimmy smiled at his dry tone.

“Jimmy’s a bit like that, aren’t you Jimmy?” Ivy added, jostling Jimmy from across the table.

“What? No, Ivy it’s not like that,” Jimmy grimaced. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on Jimmy,” Ivy tutted, “we’re all friends here. You told me a few week ago – and you were drunk mind – that you wouldn’t mind, y’know, being with a man.”

“Explains a lot,” Alfred muttered and Daisy smacked him on the arm.

“Ivy!” Jimmy hissed, “shut it!” He was outraged – he had barely come to terms with the idea that he might be gay himself, the last thing he needed was Ivy outing him in front of half of Whitby. And Thomas. Flustered, he threw on his duffle coat and stormed out of the café.

It had finally stopped raining and there were a few people milling around the harbour. Jimmy marched to the end of a concrete jetty and took refuge under a old bandstand. He stared at the sea; the water was grey and uninviting and Jimmy wondered how anything could live beneath the cold, inhospitable waves. Sometimes he felt he was as cold, inhospitable and turbulent as the ocean.

“Jimmy, wait,” Thomas called, and he trotted over, his rucksack slung over his shoulder, a cig dangling from the corner of his mouth. “You alright?”

“No,” Jimmy sulked, “that was awkward.”

Thomas shook his head. “Awkward for Ivy maybe – she really needs to learn when to shut up.”

“Hmmn,” Jimmy grumbled, his arms crossed. “That wasn’t exactly how I imagined coming out. Not that I’m gay per say. Not that being gay is bad or anything. And not that I’m saying I’m definitely straight.“

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “What are you saying?”

“That I’m an idiot,” Jimmy said, despondent. “A probably gay idiot.”

“No,” Thomas smiled, “you’re not. An idiot, I mean. You probably are gay though.” Both men stared at each other for a long, charged moment.

“I...this is an odd thing to be talking to a stranger about but - how did you know? Y’know, that you’re gay?” Jimmy asked. “If it’s not too personal a question?”

Thomas shook his head, “S’ok, I’m not precious about it. I think I always knew really - but when I was about thirteen though, when the boys at school started noticing the girls I - I started noticing the boys.” He shrugged, “I didn’t tell anyone for a few years though.”

“I wish it were that simple for me,” Jimmy sighed. “I’ve never, y’know, been with a guy or anything. But - well I’ve never really been,” he paused, and studied his shoes, a blush creeping up his neck, “with many women neither.” He hadn’t really been with anyone but he wasn’t willing to admit that. Yet.

Thomas looked surprised but he didn’t say anything. Jimmy was thankful that he hadn’t laughed at him.

“I just - I’m just not really that interested in anyone,” Jimmy finished. “Like, I’m attracted to people, women sometimes, I suppose, but mainly men if I’m honest but - ugh, the whole drama of a relationship just repels me. I find it hard, knowing people, understanding them and it’s like I just haven’t found anyone I’m interested in enough to bother. Does that make me weird?”

“No,” Thomas replied, “you’re just - I guess detached from people in general. You’re um, closed off. I’d wager your ‘friends’ hardly know a thing about you.”

Jimmy nodded; it was true. They didn’t even know his birthday or how his parents died and he’d known them for years. And it wasn’t because they hadn’t tried to get to know him - it was because Jimmy had avoided any conversation about himself like the plague.

“You should try opening up to someone,” Thomas said. “See how it goes. What have you got to lose? You might find your mindset changes.”

“So you and Philip huh?” Jimmy started, just so he had something to say that wasn’t about him. “What happened there?”

“It’s a long story,” Thomas took a deep inhale of his cigarette and Jimmy found his eyes drawn to Thomas’s red mouth and the sliver of a scar above his top lip. “We were never right for each other really.”

“Oh? How so?” Jimmy leaned against the low concrete wall of the bandstand and tried to look nonchalant when he was actually fascinated.

“He was…controlling,” Thomas said, his eyes as grey and stormy as the squally ocean. “And he was jealous. I loved him, once, but I don’t think he ever loved me. If he did, he wouldn’t have done those things,” Thomas paused and seemed to check himself. He walked out from under the bandstand and up to the marina railings - Jimmy followed a few steps behind. “But anyway, you don’t want to listen to this.” He threw the glowing butt of his cigarette into the harbour where it was immediately drowned by the waves.

“Is that why you left?” Jimmy asked.

“Yes,” Thomas nodded sombrely, “although it’s not much of a plan. I’ve no job, no money and nowhere to go.”

“Well tonight you have got somewhere to go,” Jimmy said; he reached out to touch Thomas on the shoulder, but he flinched and took a step backwards.

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy apologised, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s alright,” Thomas straightened his jacket. “It’s not you, it’s…”

“Philip?” Jimmy ventured.

“Is it that obvious?” Thomas dragged a shaking hand through his hair. “I thought I was pretty good at putting on a front.”

“You are; I just put two and two together and took a punt to be honest.”

Thomas sat on one of the damp benches and looked across the marina towards the ruined Whitby Abbey. Jimmy perched gingerly beside him like he was trying not to spook a flighty horse.

“He hurts you, doesn’t he?” Jimmy coaxed.

Thomas scrubbed a hand over his face and nodded tightly. “I’m a fool to have stayed with him so long. I thought...I thought he’d change.”

“I don’t think people like that ever do,” Jimmy shook his head. “But you’ve left now, that’s the important thing.”

“I suppose,” he shrugged, “this isn’t much better though.”

“We’ve got the cottage for the week,” Jimmy said. “You can stay with us until then. I know it’s not much but you’ll catch your death sleeping out in this.” He gestured vaguely at the typical British weather. “At least you won’t have to worry about where to go for a few days.”

“Will your entourage be ok with that?” Thomas asked.

“Don’t really care if they are,” Jimmy shrugged. “After Ivy just blooded outed me, she owes me one.”

Thomas smiled at that; a genuine, soft smile of amusement and Jimmy was taken aback by just how beautiful and young he looked in that moment. The smile faded and Thomas turned his sharp grey eyes on Jimmy.

“Why are you helping me Jimmy?” he asked. “I’m really not your problem.”

“That’s what people do, isn’t it?” Jimmy bluffed. In all honesty he wasn’t sure why he was so invested in helping Thomas, but there was some kind of connection between them and Jimmy didn’t make connections with other people easily. “Help out other people? The milk of human kindness and all that.“

“Macbeth?” Thomas said, surprised.

“I read,” Jimmy pouted. “Well, I watch movies of books which is practically the same thing.”

“Yes, it’s definitely the same,” Thomas chuckled. “And I suppose us gays do have to stick together,” Thomas smirked and Jimmy felt his ears flush red.

“Hey, remember that I’m helping you, alright?” Jimmy said.

They walked back along the jetty and fell in step beside each other as they rounded the corner and down onto the windswept beach; a narrow curve of damp sand bookended by a long, concrete breakwater at one end and cliffs at the other, overlooked by unseasonably cheerful multicoloured beach huts. The beach was deserted save for a couple and their extremely bundled up toddler, who was digging determinedly in the brown sand.

“So what do you do for a living?” Thomas asked.

“I’m a waiter,” Jimmy sighed. “It’s not my dream job but it pays the bills.”

“I was a bar manager,” Thomas looked wistful. “Not my dream either but,” he shrugged, “I’ve always wanted to have my own bar. It was a step in the right direction.”

“That would be the life,” Jimmy said. “You’d be your own boss. Some days I just get so tired of being told what to do and how to do it as if I’m some inept child. It’s hardly rocket science, waiting tables.”

“What’s your dream job then?” Thomas stopped and looked out over the beach, his breath a plume of white in the cold afternoon air.

“Millionaire playboy,” Jimmy smirked.

“Well that’s achievable,” Thomas laughed and Jimmy’s heart jumped at the sound. “Seriously though?”

“I don’t know really,” Jimmy admitted. “My parents died when I was still in college so I had to put my dreams on hold for a bit. I’ve never managed to get back on track. I do love music though - I play piano. ”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said, “and something like that would knock you off kilter.”

“I think I’ve been using it as an excuse for too long if I’m honest,” Jimmy sighed. “Waiting tables was supposed to be stop-gap before I moved on to bigger and better things but I’ve been there for three years now.”

“It’s easy to get stuck in a rut - it’s much harder to get back out of it. I should know.”

“I wish I were brave like you,” Jimmy said.

Thomas looked dumbfounded. “Hardly,” he replied.

“No, you are - to leave everything you know with no idea what the future holds - to escape what you’ve been through - that’s damn brave,” Jimmy stated.

Thomas ducked his head, abashed. “Thanks for saying that,” he smiled softly, “I needed to hear it.”

I could kiss you right now, Jimmy thought suddenly. He pushed the desire to the back of his mind but couldn’t fully extinguish it.

“I mean it,” Jimmy leaned in - he was so close he could see a faded scar that ran through Thomas’s left eyebrow. “You’re - well, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you.” He felt like the air around him was suddenly thick and he couldn’t quite get enough oxygen.

“I’m - ah - one of a kind,” Thomas joked, but his expression was serious.

The buzzing of Jimmy’s phone interrupted the moment.

“It’s Daisy, wondering where we are. They’re  
asking up to meet up for a drink. Apparently Ivy wants to apologise,” Jimmy said.

“I could do with getting out of the cold,” Thomas replied.

Thomas and Jimmy strolled back around the marina and met up with Daisy, Ivy and Alfred at The Ship Inn. They crowded into a corner booth near the roaring log burner - Jimmy squeezed onto a bench between Thomas and Daisy. Alfred was nominated to buy a round.

“I’m sorry about before,” Ivy said sheepishly. “It weren’t my secret to share.”

“Well it’s done now,” Jimmy said and took a swig of his beer. “I should’ve known better than to tell you in the first place. You never can keep a secret.”

“Be nice Jimmy,” Daisy scolded, “she’s tryin’ to apologise.”

“So it’s true?” Alfred was agog.

“No!” Jimmy said. He glanced at Thomas, who just raised his eyebrows, then added, “Well it’s not untrue.”

“See!” Ivy shrieked. “I wasn’t making it up.” Daisy grinned at Jimmy like he was a shiny new toy.

“Bloody hell,” Alfred said. “You think you know someone.”

“You lot are seriously the worst,” Jimmy crossed arms. “This is why I don’t talk to any of you about anything.”

“Sorry,” the trio said in unison.

“We’ll be more supportive, I promise,” Ivy added.

Jimmy threw up his hands, “Alright, I’ll let it go. But on one condition - Thomas stays with us for the week.” All eyes turned on Thomas who took a self-conscious sip of his pint.

“Oh, fine,” Ivy acquiesced. “But he’s your responsibility.”

“I won’t be any trouble, scouts honour,” Thomas added.

~

By the time they got back to the cottage it was already getting dark. Damp seemed to seep in through the stone walls and it was almost as cold inside as it was outside - Alfred attempted to light the fire whilst Jimmy made cups of tea and Daisy and Ivy started dinner. Thomas peeled off several wet layers of clothing and draped them over a chair near the fireplace.

“I can’t get the bloody thing lit,” Alfred sighed after five minutes of fumbling. He threw the remaining kindling into the grate and lumbered into the kitchen. “The woods all damp an’ it won’t catch.”

“I can do it,” Thomas said. He crouched by the hearth and started rearranging the logs. Jimmy watched from the kitchen as he waited for the kettle to boil - Thomas’s deft hands made quick work of Alfred’s mess and he had a fire started in less than a minute.

Ivy stopped stirring the pasta and pointed her wooden spoon at Jimmy. “Where’s he going to sleep then?” she asked, her voice low. “It’s not that I don’t trust your new friend but I’m not sure I want him wondering around alone in the middle of the night neither.”

“Why?” Jimmy whispered. He dumped three or four teaspoons of sugar in Alfred’s cup. “He’s not exactly interested in you, is he? Not really his type.”

“S’not the point,” she frowned, “he might steal summat.”

“You never know,” Daisy added, her oven-gloved hands on her hips. “Just ‘cause he seems nice.”

“Well, just make sure you hide all your Rolex’s and diamonds before you turn in,” Jimmy rolled his eyes. Ivy and Daisy both huffed and made to start arguing but Jimmy waved them off. “Alright, alright. He can sleep in my room if it’ll shut you two up.”

“Oi, don’t I get a say?” Alfred interjected. “Maybe I don’t want to share my room with him. I could be his type.”

Jimmy snorted so hard he nearly choked. “As if!”

Alfred folded his arms, unmoved. “I mean it. I don’t want to share. It was bad enough having to share with you. And I don’t know why you’re so set on helpin’ him. It’s not like you to be nice to anyone, let alone a strange bloke we barely know.”

If they knew what Thomas had been through they’d want to help him too. But it wasn’t Jimmy’s secret to share.

And he definitely wasn’t going to tell them about the strange connection he’d made with a man he’d just met.

“Ugh, fine,” Jimmy hissed, “we can sleep on the sofas. We’ll be nice and cosy by the fire. You can freeze upstairs on your own, you great lummox.”

“Look,” Thomas started. He must have crept into the kitchen while they were arguing. “I really don’t want to cause a problem. I’ll just go.”

“No,” Jimmy said, “you won’t. It’s settled.”

~

Dinner was as good as you’d imagine with three cooks in charge but Jimmy found it hard to eat - Thomas was very distracting. He was obviously starving and wolfed down his share; watching him suck pasta sauce off his fork was practically sinful.

“Do you have pyjamas or anything?” Daisy asked as she collected up plates.

Thomas shook his head. “Travelling light and all that. I only bought a change of clothes.”

“I’ve got a spare pair,” Jimmy offered. There was something really intimate about lending Thomas his pjs - the thought of it made Jimmy’s stomach flip. “You can take a shower too, if you like. ”

Thomas agreed and it took a strangely large amount of self-control on Jimmy’s part to not think about wet, soapy Thomas the whole time. When he emerged, smelling like Jimmy’s shampoo and with soft, fluffy hair, Jimmy nearly lost his mind. If he’d been a cartoon his eyes would have popped out of his head like they were on springs.

One-by-one the party disappeared into their bedrooms leaving Thomas and Jimmy snuggled around the fire, swathed in blankets.

“This is so much better than last night,” Thomas sighed. “I barely slept.”

“Where did you sleep?” Jimmy asked.

“In a shop doorway,” Thomas admitted. “Not a high point of my life, I must say. Some drunk guy almost pissed on me too.”

Jimmy laughed at that then clamped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. It’s not funny, not really.”

“Oh it’s funny,” Thomas smiled, “just not when it’s happening to me.” He was silent for a beat, then continued, “I appreciate what you’ve done for me Jimmy, I do. And thanks for being discrete about what I told you.”

“Of course,” Jimmy said, “and thanks for returning that favour.” They watched the fire in comfortable silence until it died down to a pile of smouldering ash. Jimmy was lulled to sleep by the sound of rain and Thomas’s soft snores.

Jimmy was the sort who could sleep almost anywhere and once he was unconscious, he stayed that way until either his alarm or the pressing need to urinate woke him. However, something roused him prematurely and he came around with a start, disorientated in the dark cottage. Thomas was making awful moaning noises and thrashing around under his blankets like he was trying to claw his way out - he was probably having a nightmare or something. Jimmy slipped out from under his blankets and crawled over to Thomas’s makeshift bed - he’d have to wake him before he disturbed the rest of the house.

“Thomas,” he hissed, “wake up, you’re dreaming.” But Thomas continued to writhe around, murmuring and becoming more and more tangled in his bedding. Jimmy was reticent to touch Thomas as he’d recoiled so violently before, but he didn’t see any way around it other than yelling, which would surely wake everyone else up too. He pulled some of the blankets off Thomas and cautiously took hold of his shoulders.

“Thomas,” he said again, shaking him gently.

“No please!” Thomas said as he woke with a start and sat bolt upright, fear etched on his face. “Please Philip, don’t!”

“Shh,” Jimmy soothed, “s’alright, you’re safe.” He ran his hands up and down Thomas’s arms in what he hoped was a reassuring manoeuvre.

“Jimmy?” Thomas was still dazed. He leaned into Jimmy’s touch, breathing heavily.

“You were havin’ a nightmare I reckon,” Jimmy explained. “I had to wake you up.”

“Sorry,” Thomas scrubbed a hand over his face, “it happens a lot. Philip used to get really pissed off if I woke him up. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“It’s okay,” Jimmy squeezed Thomas’s shoulders, “who needs sleep anyway?”

“I’ll never be free of him, will I?” Thomas said, resigned. “He’s miles away and he’s still terrorising me.”

“Give it time,” Jimmy replied. He scooted up onto the sofa next to Thomas and pulled a blanket over them both. “After my parents died I had nightmares for years. But I hardly ever dream about them now.”

“What happened to them?” Thomas asked, “If you don’t mind me askin?”

Jimmy paused. He’d never spoken to anyone about his parents death. But Thomas looked so - so lost, so in need of a distraction, he found he couldn’t deny him.

“They we’re driving home - they’d been out for a meal for their anniversary and they were just driving along the same road they drove down every day, minding their own business when,” Jimmy swallowed hard - his throat was tight, “when they were in a crash. A lorry - a big articulated thing - veered on to their side of the road and hit them head on. The driver fell asleep at the wheel - he just plowed into them at sixty miles an hour. They didn’t stand a chance. He walked away with barely a bruise. How’s that fair?”

“It’s not,” Thomas said, “I’m sorry.”

“I was at home, in bed. I didn’t find out it had happened until the next morning. By that time they were both dead,” Jimmy fiddled with the blanket on his lap to hide how much his hands were shaking. “I went to see them in the morgue - we didn’t have any other family and I had to identify the bodies. I wish I could unsee it - even now it’s burned into my brain. Whenever I think of them it’s not the million nice memories I see, it’s that awful morning in the morgue.”

“How old were you?” Thomas asked. He put his hand over Jimmy’s to still it and Jimmy took it between his own without thinking.

“I was seventeen, but only just,” Jimmy replied. “I was declared an independent which meant I didn’t have to go into care or anything but it also meant I was suddenly alone and responsible for everything. It was Jimmy contra mundi and it has been every since. ”

“You’re strong to have come through that,” Thomas said.

“Did I come through it though?” Jimmy asked. He turned to look at Thomas - he could just make out his face in the darkness. “I don’t think I’ve ever been the same since. I feel like I’m only half-alive most of the time.”

“My father disowned me when he found out I was gay,” Thomas said. “I left home when I was sixteen. My mum died shortly after - I think she died of a broken heart, if that’s possible. I’ve not spoken to my father or any of my siblings since. Don’t even know if they are alive or dead. It’s not the same as what you went through but I do understand, I know what it’s like to be alone.”

Jimmy just squeezed Thomas’s hand - Thomas squeezed back. “I’m supposed to be helping you, not the other way around,” Jimmy said.

“We’re a right pair aren’t we?” Thomas replied. “We seem so sure of ourselves, but we’re not so sure underneath.”

Jimmy was very aware of his body in relation to Thomas’s and the fact they were still holding hands. The longer it went on, the more difficult it became to move away or let go - and really, Jimmy didn’t want to. It was oddly comfortable, sitting side-by-side in the dark, their hands clasped together. Jimmy hadn’t allowed himself to be comforted for a long time - since the day he’d found out about his parents in fact, when a police woman with kind, brown eyes had held him as he sobbed. He hadn’t realised how much he’d needed it, the warm touch of another person - someone who wasn’t after anything from him but comfort. Normally when he was touched by another it always came with some ulterior, sexual motive. He was touch starved - no, he was starved of affection and he hadn’t even realised he wanted it. The longer they sat there, the more he felt like the wall he’d built inside himself to keep everything neatly locked away was crumbling. Jimmy allowed himself to lean against Thomas’s shoulder and Thomas let his head fall against Jimmy’s.

Neither man spoke for fear of breaking the spell.

Jimmy was so out of practice in even considering his own feelings that talking about his parents had left him emotionally exhausted - his eyes were heavy and it was easy to let them close, lulled to sleep by the warmth of Thomas’s body and the rhythm of his breathing.

~

When morning came, Jimmy woke up with a stiff neck and feeling like he’d run a marathon in his sleep. He was still in Thomas’s bed, but someone, presumably Thomas, had lowered him down onto the pillow and tucked a blanket around him. In the light of day he felt embarrassed and awkward about his behaviour in the small hours - it seemed like it had happened in a dream. Only the smell of bacon and coffee convinced him to peel his head off the pillow.

Thomas was in the kitchen, Jimmy’s borrowed pyjamas stretched to their limit across his broad shoulders. Jimmy couldn’t help but watch as he bustled about, a kettle in one hand and a spatula in the other.

“You’ve been busy,” Jimmy said, sitting at the already-laid table. There were covered pots and plates spread out down the middle -Jimmy lifted a lid and found a mound of steaming bacon.

“Just earning my keep,” Thomas smiled. He looked at Jimmy with a softness that filled him with a peculiar warmth.

“How can I help?” Jimmy asked, wanting to busy himself.

“How domesticated are you?” Thomas grinned, “Can you handle the toast?”

“Domesticated enough to put the toaster on, thank you very much.”

Ivy was the first to appear downstairs, dressed in the world’s fluffiest pink dressing gown, one of those ridiculous towel turbans that all girls seemed to wear when they washed their hair balanced on her head.

“Ooh, what’s for breakfast?” she chirruped.

“Bacon, sausages, eggs, beans, grilled tomatoes,” Thomas gestured to the various pots and pans on the table.

“And toast,” Jimmy said, pointing to his meagre contribution.

“Please, help yourself,” Thomas added.

“Ah-maze-ing!” Ivy sang. “Thomas has been here one day and he’s already done more than you ever have Jimmy.”

“Well I’d be an idiot to cook when I live with three chefs,” Jimmy replied.

“What’s your excuse for never cleaning though?” Ivy retorted.

Daisy and Alfred joined them in due time and they reached a consensus over breakfast - to make the most of the dry weather with a walk along the beach, then out into Whitby in the evening for drinks and dancing.

~

Robin Hood’s Bay had the sort of beach that completely disappeared at high tide and was basically a sandy bog at low tide, so they’d had to time the walk to coincide with the latter. It was a typical Yorkshire beach; steep cliffs ending in a flat expanse of brownish sand, and sea the colour of weak hot chocolate. The unexpectedly clement weather had drawn out a few tourists and there were probably a dozen or so spread across the shore.

The group naturally splintered off; Daisy and Ivy went down by the water looking for shells, Alfred tried to impress them by gracelessly skimming stones, and Jimmy and Thomas strolled along in companionable silence. The autumn sun was shining but held little warmth and was no match for the sharp wind blowing off the North Sea.

“This is surreal,” Thomas said, apropos of nothing.

“What’s that?” Jimmy asked.

“This,” he gestured at Jimmy and the group. “Walking on the beach like you’re all my friends or something. It feels so disjointed from my life three days ago.”

“I am your friend, for what it’s worth,” Jimmy said, “but I get what you’re saying.”

Thomas smiled and ducked his head in that endearing way he did when he was embarrassed.

“About last night,” Thomas started, but a distant clap of thunder interrupted him. They both looked out towards the ocean - dark clouds were gathering ominously on the horizon.

“I think we should turn around!” Alfred called. “That doesn’t look promising.”

The storm blew in from the sea at a remarkable rate and they’d barely made it halfway back along the beach before the heavens opened. Thomas and Jimmy were about a hundred yards behind everyone else and they ducked into a small cave to avoid the torrent of rain.

“I just got dry from the last storm,” Jimmy complained. “Bloody stupid idea, a seaside holiday in the winter.”

“You really didn’t want to come on this trip?” Thomas asked.

“No,” Jimmy shook his head. The wind whistled into the shallow cave and pelted them with sand and rain. “I got bloody badgered into it. It seemed like less hassle to come than to keep hearing Ivy go on about it for the rest of my life.”

“She’s an interesting one,” Thomas remarked.

“Not really. She was all over me when we first met, drove me mental,” Jimmy grimaced at the memory of Ivy fawning and pawing at him.

“An’ you didn’t...lead her on at all?”

Jimmy paused, torn between a lie and the embarrassing truth, then said, “Only a little. I flirted I suppose but...well, people are only interested in me for the way I look so...” he shrugged.

Thomas frowned, “There’s more to you than a pretty face.”

“There is,” Jimmy said, “but people don’t care to know it. No one really knows me - god, I think I don’t know myself sometimes.”

“Everyone feels like that sometimes, no matter how sure of themselves they appear to be,” Thomas leaned on the rock face behind him and lit a cigarette.

“What, even Alfred?” Jimmy grinned.

Thomas laughed and said, “No, I don’t think he has much in the way of existential worries.”

“It must be nice though, to not worry about who you are,” Jimmy leaned next to Thomas, their shoulders touching.

“Well they say ignorance is bliss,” Thomas proffered up his cig and Jimmy leaned in, taking a drag whilst it was still scissored between Thomas’s long fingers.

“Then Alfred must be in bloody heaven,” Jimmy replied.

“The tide’s coming in,” Thomas noted, “we can’t stay here or we’ll be about as wet as you can get.”

“Guess we’ve no choice then - run for it?”

They both bolted out into the storm and made their way along the beach but running on the sloppy sand was impossible and Jimmy ended up flat on his face.

“Are you alright?” Thomas pulled Jimmy up out of the sand - he was plastered in the stuff.

“Nothing hurt apart from my pride,” Jimmy smirked, shaking sand out of his hair. Thomas brushed more from Jimmy’s face and shoulders in a futile gesture. Both men were sodden, rain running in rivulets down their faces.

“Well, I’m wet,” Thomas shrugged, “seems to be my default state nowadays.” His hair was plastered to his head.

Jimmy had a mad idea - one he thought would make Thomas smile, and it would be worth it if he could make Thomas smile - so he took off his sopping, sandy jacket and threw it on the beach. His trainers and socks followed suit.

“What the hell are you doing?” Thomas asked.

“Well I’m already about as wet as can be,” Jimmy peeled off his hoodie and hopped awkwardly out of his waterlogged jeans and stood, in the rain, in his boxer shorts and t-shirt. “Might as well go swimming hadn’t I?”

Thomas looked at Jimmy for a long moment like he’d lost his mind, then he broke into a grin. “You’re not bloody serious,” he chuckled, wiping rain out of his eyes.

“Wanna bet?” Jimmy threw his clothes onto the sand and walked down to the water. The waves had been whipped up by the storm and Jimmy was hit by freezing spray before his feet reached the sea. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed, but he waded straight in to the waves. “Thomas!” he whooped, “Come on in, the water’s fine!”

Thomas doubled over and roared with laughter. “You’re mad you are,” he said, but he started to pull off his jeans and jacket. He quickly divested himself of his clothes and ran down in only his t-shirt and boxers to join Jimmy. “It’s bloody freezing!” he yelled as he waded in.

“It’s November in Yorkshire, what were you expecting?” Jimmy replied. They regarded each other for a moment then Thomas laughed again.

“You are mad,” he repeated.

“I’m fun,” Jimmy countered and splashed Thomas playfully.

“Oh it’s like that is it?” Thomas smiled. “You asked for it!” The two men chased each other around in the shallows, splashing and laughing like children. Jimmy grabbed Thomas and tried to dunk him - he knew he’d made a mistake when Thomas yelped and squirmed violently in Jimmy’s arms.

“No please don’t, don’t, don’t,” he begged, his face ashen.

“S’ok,” Jimmy soothed, pulling Thomas into an embrace. “I’m just playing, I’m not going to hurt you, I’d never hurt you.”

Thomas stilled. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Jimmy shook his head, “I shouldn’t have done that. I wasn’t thinking. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

Thomas nodded and trembled in Jimmy’s arms. “Once Philip held my head under in the bath until I passed out. I woke up in the empty tub, vomiting water,” he explained.

“Holy shit,” Jimmy gasped, “he didn’t?”

Thomas nodded tightly. “That was one of the worst times.”

Jimmy didn’t know what to say - what the hell could you say to that? So he just held Thomas close, shivering in the squally ocean, until he regained his composure.

“Sorry to ruin the fun,” Thomas said, chagrined.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Jimmy swept salty hair out of his eyes. “You’re not capable of ruining anything.” He pulled a face - that had sounded a lot bloody soppier than he’d intended.

“I - ah,” a deep blush rose on Thomas’s cheeks, “you’re wrong there but I appreciate the sentiment. Anyway, let’s get out of here before we freeze to death. Or drown.”

~

The walk back up to the cottage was painful - they’d both pulled on the bits of clothing they could but Jimmy couldn’t get his jeans back on for the life of him, so he’d had to walk with his hoodie wrapped around his waist like a makeshift loincloth.

“What the hell happened to you two?!” Alfred asked, tutting as they both dumped their sodden clothes in the kitchen sink and dripped all over the floor.

“We tried to wait it out,” Jimmy said, pulling some seaweed out of his underwear, “which obviously didn’t pan out. So we went swimming.”

“Are you mad?” Ivy exclaimed, “You’ll both catch your deaths!” Thomas sneezed several times as if to prove her right.

“Get warm and dry,” Daisy instructed, “I’ll make you both a hot drink.”

~

Alfred, Ivy and Daisy retired to their rooms to get ready for the big night out, leaving Thomas and Jimmy to warm up by the fire. Jimmy watched as Thomas wrapped himself in a blanket and crouched as close as he could to the fireplace. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Thomas had disclosed to him in the ocean.

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said, breaking the silence.

Thomas looked confused; “What for?”

“What you told me on the beach - I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m sorry there was no one there to help you. I know it’s irrational but I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you,” Jimmy said. The thought of Philip holding Thomas under the water until he passed out made him want to vomit.

Thomas came and sat next to Jimmy. He smiled softly and said, “That - ah, that means a lot to me. It means a lot that you care. No one has cared about me for a long time.”

“I do care,” Jimmy affirmed, “I hope I’ve shown you that I do.” And he reached out and smoothed down an errant tuft of Thomas’s hair. Thomas leaned into the touch and Jimmy found himself running his fingers through Thomas’s hair over and over again.

“I’m freezing,” Thomas said, despite the fact the fire was roaring and he was wrapped in a blanket. He sneezed again.

“I hope you’re not getting sick?” Jimmy pressed the back of his hand against Thomas’s forehead - he was warm and a little clammy. “You should get some rest before the big night out.”

Thomas nodded and lay down next to Jimmy - Jimmy lifted Thomas’s feet onto his lap and wrapped another blanket around him. Curled up and cosy, Thomas fell asleep within minutes. Jimmy found it pleasurable to just watch Thomas sleep. He’d never been so comfortable with another person before - he supposed they had what people referred to as ‘chemistry’. It had seemed so natural to just scoop up Thomas’s feet that he’d done it without even thinking about it.

~

It was almost six-thirty by the time Ivy tottered down the creaky stairs in ridiculously weather-inappropriate high heels and an equally ridiculous short skirt. She had glitter, well, everywhere - in her hair, on her cheeks - even her top was made with a sparkly thread. She looked like she’d sneezed in a glitter factory. Daisy was much less glittery, but still pretty dolled up - it was like looking at a kid who’d gotten into their mother’s makeup. Even Alfred had changed into a less-creased shirt. The three of them looked at Jimmy in distain - he was still on the sofa, trapped under Thomas’s legs, wearing the dressing gown he’d changed into after his impromptu swim. Thomas was snoring softly, cosy in Jimmy’s slightly-too-tight pjs, an ill-defined lump somewhere beneath a pile of fluffy blankets.

“You’re not ready! And Thomas is asleep!” Ivy exclaimed in a theatrical whisper. “The taxi will be here any minute.”

“We can’t ask Thomas to go out partying, he’s sick!” Jimmy hissed.

“Well we can’t leave him here on his own with all our things,” Ivy replied.

“That’s why I’m staying in,” Jimmy said.

“But you’re supposed to make up the four,” Alfred added. “It’ll be uneven now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise they only let even numbers get pissed up and make fools of themselves on the dance floor,” Jimmy said tersely. “You’ll manage.”

“This is typical,” Ivy started, clearly cross. “Typical selfish Jimmy.”

“Excuse me, but how is staying in to watch the sick hitchhiker selfish exactly?” Jimmy said hotly. “I’d say the idiots forcing someone to go dancing when they are ill are the selfish ones.”

Ivy huffed and opened her mouth to argue, but Daisy cut her off.

“I think Jimmy’s right,” she said. “He doesn’t have to come if he doesn’t want to. And he’s been nothing but nice to Thomas - charitable even. Let him be.”

Jimmy just grinned smugly.

“Oh, fine, whatever,” Ivy crossed her arms, defeated. A horn beeping outside announced the arrival of the taxi so the trio bounced out into the stormy evening and left the cottage in silence.

“You needn’t have gotten into an argument for me,” Thomas said from beneath his blankets.

“I thought you were asleep,” Jimmy replied. Thomas appeared from under his blanket pile, his chin rough with stubble and his hair looking like a cow had licked him.

“It’s hard to sleep through Ivy,” Thomas said. He looked less peaky than earlier - the sleep had done him good.

“Tell me about it, I bloody live with her,” Jimmy hopped down and took to poking the fire, as it was in danger of going out.

Thomas stretched languorously and lit a cigarette, his pjs riding up to expose a strip of stomach. “If I’m honest I’m glad we stayed in. I wasn’t much in the mood for dancing.”

“Me either,” Jimmy said eyeing the pale band of Thomas’s skin, then added, “d’ya like card games?”

“Hmm?” Thomas shrugged, “I guess?”

“Come play with me,” Jimmy urged. He fetched the pack of cards he’d spotted in the dresser, dragged the coffee table over and started to shuffle. He showed off a little for Thomas’s benefit; a Sybil cut, a riffle shuffle then a cascade, before dealing - Thomas looked suitably impressed and took the cards Jimmy dealt him.

“What are we playing?” he asked.

“You know how to play speed?”

Thomas nodded, “I’ll warn you - I’m good.”

“We’ll see,” Jimmy grinned.

They played quickly, both men intent on winning. Thomas ‘accidentally’ knocked Jimmy’s pile over more than once and Jimmy actually pinned Thomas’s hand down for several seconds whilst he completed his stack. They were drawing one game each (although there had been a lot of cheating, so it was impossible to say who’d actually won) when they were interrupted by thunder rumbling loudly, seemingly right above the cottage. Lightning flashed so brightly it was like someone had shone a spotlight through the window - the antique wall lamps flickered then all went out simultaneously.

“Powers out,” Thomas said.

“You don’t say,” Jimmy replied. He went and peered out of the window - you could usually see the lights from other cottages dotted along the cliff top, but now there was only blackness. “It’s not just us - must be whole village.”

“Too dark for cards now. At least we have the fire,” Thomas said. He put a couple of logs on and Jimmy watched as he spent a few minutes poking and rearranging the sticks until he was happy with it. Thomas glanced up and caught Jimmy watching him - he looked away, abashed.

“Err...drink?” Jimmy offered. They practically had a brewery in the kitchen with all the alcohol they’d bought.

“Sounds good,” Thomas nodded.

Jimmy found the cheap bottle of scotch he’d bought and two glasses. He poured them both generous shots of the amber-coloured liquid. Thomas knocked his back and grimaced.

“That’s - not good,” he coughed. Jimmy sipped his and almost choked.

“Well it was cheap,” he shrugged and poured Thomas another.

“Are you tryin’ to get me drunk?” Thomas smiled wryly, taking another sip.

“That depends,” Jimmy flirted, “is it working?”

Thomas knocked back his drink again in response. “Let’s play another game,” he said.

“I thought you said it was too dark for cards?”

“Yeah, it is for cards,” Thomas replied. “There must be something else?”

Jimmy sipped his drink and thought for a moment. “Err, Truth or Dare?”

“Are we sixteen?” Thomas mocked.

“Ah - are you chicken then?” Jimmy teased.

Thomas frowned, affronted. “No, I’m game,” he said. “And lets make it interesting - if we forfeit a round we have to down our drink. Truth.”

“Alright,” Jimmy fingered his glass, thinking. “What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

Thomas thought for a moment then said, “Homophobia is pretty high on my list but it’s more like - um, when people think I’m going to be some kind of stereotype because I’m gay. They expect me to be - feminine? Camp? I don’t know,” he shook his head, “I don’t think I’m explaining it properly.”

“No, I get it,” Jimmy frowned. “People always expect me to be a certain way - I guess because of how I look - they think I’m going to be some ugh, I don’t know, himbo? I hate it.”

“Your turn,” Thomas said, “truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Ah, ok,” Thomas sipped his drink absentmindedly. “If you had to choose between always being naked or having your thoughts appear in thought bubbles above your head for everyone to read, which would you choose?”

Jimmy choked on his drink; “What?”

Thomas laughed, “You heard me.”

“That’s - how am I supposed to choose, it’s ridiculous!”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Thomas said.

Jimmy made a show of umming and ahhing then said, “I’d be naked - I look good naked. People would get used to that. I don’t think they’d get used to the things I think though. I’d be arrested.”

Thomas snickered, “And you wouldn’t be arrested for running about naked?”

“Not if I played my cards right,” Jimmy winked. “Ok, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Same question to you then,” Jimmy replied.

“That’s such a cop out,” Thomas rolled his eyes. “Easy. Naked. I’d be beaten up all the time if people could read what I was thinking. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Thomas pondered briefly then put forward, “What’s the longest you’ve been in a relationship?”

Jimmy pulled a face. “Err, about a...a week.”

“And you’re how old?” Thomas laughed. “And who with - I bet it was Ivy wasn’t it?”

“No follow up questions!” Jimmy pouted, then acquiesced. “I’m twenty-four. And yeah, it was my very ill-conceived ‘romance’ with Ivy,” he said disdainfully.

“Did you and her ever,” Thomas waggled his eyebrows, “y’know?”

“Ugh, thankfully not,” Jimmy pulled a face. “I’d never have gotten rid of her if we’d have slept together. She wanted to though, she was all over me like a bad rash. But I couldn’t bring myself to...Anyway, this isn’t fair, you’ve just gotten like four truths out of me for the price of one, you cheat.”

“Okay, alright,” Thomas held up his hands. “I’ll have a truth.”

“Alright, same question,” Jimmy replied quickly.

“Two years,” Thomas said sombrely.

“Philip?”

Thomas just nodded, then after a pause said; “That was about eighteen months longer than I should’ve stayed,” he shook his head. “I should have left the first time he raised a hand to me. But it was...I don’t know. He was so loving and sweet for the first six months. It was only after I moved into his flat that he started hurting me. And that first time - god, we were both drunk and arguing and,” he paused and took a long drink, “he slapped me so hard my ears rang. I was - shocked I think. I just cried and he broke down and apologised over and over and...” he trailed off, the memory clearly still hurt.

“He was always so sorry after. He’d buy me expensive gifts and he’d promise me so many things. He’d tell me how much he loved me and he’d say we’d move to London soon and open the bar we’d always talked about - have a fresh start, y’know? He promised he’d never do it again. And I believed him. At first I believed him and then...then I didn’t believe him anymore but I didn’t know what to do. He was the only person who’d ever loved me and...and I thought I was lucky to even have him. If I were to leave him I’d have no one - nothing. I’d already lost my job because of him - I’d had to call in sick so often because of the bruises they ended up giving me the sack. It didn’t take long to spend my savings so then I relied on Philip for money too, and god knows he was loaded. He always used to hang that over me an’ all. And I’ve never had many friends but he drove away the ones I did have. He stopped me seeing them and I let him - I let him do that to me.”

“The last time though...something was different. He was so angry, so malicious, and he...well, I’ll spare you the details but I honestly thought he was going to kill me. And after, when I was cleaning my own blood up off the bathroom tiles, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and it was like someone had suddenly burst this - this bubble I’d been living in and I could see clearly for the first time in years. I could see what I’d become - a terrified drudge, a pathetic broken shell of a man and I was so goddamn ashamed of myself. I’d let him make me believe I deserved it - that I’m worthless. Foul - he used to call me foul. Jimmy,” Thomas paused, tears threatening to choke him, “I’m not the nicest or the funniest or the smartest man in the world but I’m not foul. I knew then I had to leave. So I waited a few days for the right moment, for him to go out for the day, packed a bag and...well, here I am. In a stranger’s cottage in Whitby, telling my life story to some poor sod I’ve just met.” He leaned forwards, his head in his hands.

Jimmy didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t imagine what Thomas had been through. And whilst it seemed common sense to just leave such an abusive relationship, it was rarely that simple. Jimmy remembered overhearing his mum talking about one of his distant cousins - her husband used to knock her about, but she’d stayed with him for years. His mother had said that sometimes it was sort of like Stockholm Syndrome. Jimmy rose, crossed the room in two strides and sat down beside Thomas.

“You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,” Jimmy finally replied. “It’s all his fault. He abused you and gaslighted you. It’s what twats like him do. I barely know you and even I can see you deserve so much better.”

“Thank you for saying that,” Thomas said. “Logically I know you’re right. It’s just...it’s hard to believe.” He shifted closer, his shoulder resting against Jimmy’s. “What the hell am I going to do now?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Jimmy said, “I can lend you some money. My parents left me some, probably not enough for what you need - but I’ll give you what I can. You deserve a better life, Thomas.”

“I - I don’t know what to say,” Thomas turned and gazed at Jimmy as if he’d hung the moon. “You’ve been so kind to me.”

“S’alright,” Jimmy couldn’t tear himself away - he was lost in Thomas’s eyes and was unaware that he was leaning in closer and closer. The cheap scotch had made him sloppy and uninhibited. “I want to be kind to you.”

“Do you?” Thomas asked. His tongue flicked out and licked his lower lip - an act that made blood rush straight to Jimmy’s groin. “It’s been a long time since anyone was kind to me.”

“Did he hurt you very badly?” Jimmy asked. He touched the scar at the corner of Thomas’s mouth.

“Ah, sometimes,” Thomas said. “It was normally a punch or two. Once he held me down and burned me with his cigarette. That left a scar.”

“The bruises on your neck?” Jimmy brushed the tips of his fingers over the little purple ovals dotting Thomas’s throat.

Thomas flinched but stopped himself from moving away. “That was the last time,” he said. “He - he squeezed and squeezed my throat - I couldn’t breathe. I thought that was it. I thought he was going to kill me.” He leaned slightly into Jimmy’s touch and Jimmy was overcome with the desire to embrace Thomas, to protect him.

“Never again,” Jimmy said, letting his arms encircle Thomas’s shoulders. “I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

“You’d do that for me?” Thomas relaxed into Jimmy’s arms, his forehead resting against Jimmy’s.

“I’d do - well, I’d do a lot for you,” Jimmy replied. “Probably anythin’ if you asked me.”

“Would you,” Thomas pulled back and looked into Jimmy’s eyes, “would you kiss me right now? I’ve spent so long feeling worthless, disgusting I - I want to feel something good.”

Jimmy swallowed hard; he imagined it, Thomas’s red lips pressing against his, the heat of his tongue dipping into Jimmy’s mouth, and he nodded. Thomas caressed Jimmy’s jaw, tilting his chin up slightly, and lightly brushed his lips against Jimmy’s.

Jimmy closed his eyes, lost to the sensation. He realised all the other times he’d kissed someone it had been wrong - no, not wrong per say, just not right. It had been sloppy or hard or meaningless and unsatisfying. Jimmy had thought that was just what kissing was like - he hadn’t imagined a chaste touch of lips could be so meaningful and gentle and erotic all at once.

When they broke apart Jimmy was breathless and Thomas’s cheekbones were painted with a blush.

“I, ah, that was,” Thomas tried to say something, but seemed at a loss.

“Perfect?” Jimmy offered.

Thomas nodded and leaned in again but Jimmy stopped him - Thomas looked hurt.

“Don’t get me wrong, I want to,” Jimmy explained, “but you’re - you’re vulnerable right now and I don’t want to take advantage of that. I don’t want you to do something you’d regret.”

“I doubt I’d regret it,” Thomas smiled, touched, “but I appreciate that. I’ve been so used to just doing what Philip wanted I sometimes forget I don’t have to do anything anymore.”

“I don’t ever want to make you feel like that,” Jimmy frowned, “ever.”

“Would you,” Thomas’s blush deepened, “would you stay with me, like last night? I know it was cramped but it was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time, with you beside me.”

“Of course,” Jimmy nodded. “But can we at least lie down this time? My neck is still cricked from last night.”

Thomas lay down on the sofa and Jimmy crowded in beside him, pulling the blankets over them both. There wasn’t really enough room for two people to lie side-by-side - Jimmy had to tangle his legs around Thomas’s and lean into his chest to stop himself from tumbling backwards off the sofa. They were so close could feel the dull thud of Thomas’s heart.

“I don’t,” Thomas started, “I don’t normally do this y’know.”

“Spoon with a stranger? Funnily enough, it’s my first time too,” Jimmy teased. Thomas chuckled softly.

“I mean - there’s something about you,” Thomas explained. “I feel like you understand me - people don’t usually understand me. They think I’m nasty. But I’m not, not really. I’m just...defensive. ”

“I don’t think you’re nasty at all,” Jimmy said. “Sarcastic, yes, but so am I. I like that. I like you. People think I’m nasty too - Ivy and that are always tellin’ me to stop being nasty. But I’m not always being horrible on purpose - sometimes I say things without thinking how people will hear them and they seem to hear them differently to how I mean them. And sometimes I just want to be left alone so I say something shocking then no one speaks to me for a day or so.”

“Really? That’s petty.”

“Trust me, living with that lot it’s a relief sometimes,” Jimmy said. “They - they seem to think you have to fill every bit of silence with words and noise. But sometimes just being together quietly - that’s comforting and pleasant. I’ve tried to explain it to them but they just get huffy and think I’m being rude,” Jimmy sighed.

“I understand,” Thomas said and Jimmy felt him nod. “I’ve been accused of being rude when I’m just sitting there reading. I like comfortable silences. And sometimes I don’t have anything nice to say but people always have to push and then I say something unpleasant.”

“Exactly!” Jimmy said.

“We are very alike Jimmy,” Thomas yawned, “I feel like I’ve known you longer than a couple of days.”

“I - I don’t normally - I don’t know. Get along with people,” Jimmy confided. “I can pretend, I can turn the charm when I need to, but I feel,” he took a breath - talking about his feelings was about as easy as swallowing glass, “I feel something with you that I didn’t know I could feel. I’m so used to feeling numb, cold - hostile even, it took me by surprise. I feel - warm, um, like you warm my insides - ah, I’m not making sense!” he finished, embarrassed.

Thomas ran his fingers through Jimmy’s hair. “It made perfect sense,” he said. “And Jimmy, I feel the same. There’s something between us, isn’t there?”

Jimmy nodded, knowing Thomas would feel the movement against his chest even if he couldn’t see it. Thomas seemed to understand all this talking about feelings had overwhelmed Jimmy and he didn’t push for further conversation. Instead he petted Jimmy’s hair gently, soothing him.

“It’s late - lets get some sleep,” Thomas said quietly. “Goodnight Jimmy.”

“Goodnight, Thomas,” Jimmy replied.

~

Jimmy woke with sunlight in his eyes - he’d neglected to close the curtains last night and the morning sun was streaming through the living room window. Thomas was still snoring, his hands clutching Jimmy’s pyjama top, his thigh between Jimmy’s legs. The mantle clock proclaimed it was 9:17am but the cottage was silent - Ivy, Alfred and Daisy has yet to surface after their big night out. Chagrined, it dawned on Jimmy that they would have undoubtedly seen him cuddled up to Thomas, asleep, when they came home, although It was a testament to how well Jimmy slept that he wasn’t disturbed by their drunken arrival.

He managed to peel himself away from Thomas without waking him and got a fire started - the sun was out but there was still a chill in the air. He went into the kitchenette, his bare feet slapping on the freezing tiles, and put the kettle on just as Daisy arrived downstairs. She still had some makeup smudged under her bleary eyes.

“Good night?” Jimmy asked.

Daisy nodded, “Yeah, but I’m regretting it now. Coffee. Please.”

Jimmy obliged - he knew that feeling all too well. “D’ya go dancing?”

“Mmm,” she replied as she sipped her coffee, then said, “how was your evening? Eventful?” Her tone suggested she had indeed seen Jimmy’s sleeping arrangements.

“No,” Jimmy lied, even though it was pointless to do so.

“Oh Jimmy,” Daisy shook her head, “don’t be an idiot.”

Jimmy was affronted; “What?”

“We don’t care who you like, or what gender they are,” Daisy said. Jimmy made to interrupt but Daisy waved him off. “We all want you to be happy - you’ve always been so sad, ever since we met you. You think we don’t notice but we do - sometimes I catch you just staring into space looking so miserable. You deserve a bit of happiness. An’ if you can find it with Thomas, you should grab it with both hands Jimmy. And for pity’s sake, don’t ruin it.”

Jimmy opened his mouth then closed it again. He knew when he was beaten. He nodded.

“Oi oi,” Alfred announced his arrival downstairs, “sleep well did ya?” He winked lasciviously. Daisy put her head in her hands.

Jimmy chose to ignore him and made small talk with Daisy - thankfully she took the hint. “There was a power cut last night - must’ve been a big storm.”

“T’were bad,” she said, “the marina was all flooded and we saw the lifeboat goin’ out an’ all.”

“It’s looking nice today though,” Alfred said. “Perfect weather for Ivy’s idea.”

~

Ivy’s idea turned out to be a trip to a local water park. It had slides, a wave pool, heated outdoor pools and even a spa. For once Jimmy actually liked one of Ivy’s dumb ideas - the thought of Thomas wet and fooling around was definitely not the reason for his enthusiasm. Much.

“I don’t have any swimming stuff,” Thomas protested. “And I can’t really afford the entry fee.”

“They were selling swimming shorts in one of the crappy shops in Whitby,” Jimmy replied. “We can stop there on the way.“ He took Thomas’s elbow and pulled him aside. “I don’t mind paying, don’t you deserve a bit of fun?”

Thomas looked at the spot where Jimmy was still holding on to his arm. Jimmy squeezed and smiled, flirting - he could pinpoint the moment when Thomas gave in.

“The sauna does sound good,” he said.

“Excellent,” Jimmy grinned. He pulled Thomas closer and for a second, considered kissing him, before remembering he was being watched by Ivy, Alfred and Daisy. “It’ll be grand, you’ll see.”

~

Half and hour and one stop later they had reached the water park - the car park was mainly empty, but then it was a midweek November afternoon, so not really prime water park visiting time. A huge block rose to the left of the main building with four different coloured slides curling around the structure.

“Now that looks like fun,” Alfred said, excitably. Jimmy rolled his eyes - it was like he was babysitting the world’s tallest, most ginger, child.

“Daisy and I are going to have a few goes on everything then we’ve got a couple of treatments booked in at the spa,” Ivy said.

“We deserve a bit of pampering,” Daisy added.

“This is...different,” Thomas smiled sardonically, “not the turn I expected my life to take but...” he shrugged.

“It’ll be fun,” Jimmy said. “Come on, I want to go on that big blue and white slide.”

They paid and arranged to meet in the heated outdoor pool once they’d changed. Jimmy spent an inordinate amount of time fussing over his hair and looking at himself in his bright, Hawaiian print swimming shorts. By the time he was finally ready Thomas was already in the water, floating peacefully on his back, his eyes closed. It was one of those ‘infinity’ pools Jimmy had seen advertised in foreign holiday brochures, the kind that usually boasted a view over a sun kissed beach and a bright blue ocean. The panoramic vista of the stormy North Sea was more monotone, but still impressive. Other than Thomas, the pool was empty - Alfred and the girls were nowhere to be seen. Jimmy walked around the pool and sat on the edge near to where Thomas was floating, and dangled his legs in the blissfully warm water. He watched Thomas float in silence for a few minutes and studied his broad shoulders, thick thighs and hirsute chest. The newly purchased navy-blue swimming shorts were a little tight around Thomas’s stomach and for some reason staring at the place where waistband met skin made Jimmy ache.

“See, you’re already enjoying it,” Jimmy said finally. Thomas cracked one eye open and peered at him - he could feel Thomas’s gaze on his toned body. Jimmy wasn’t against using his good looks to get by but it normally always made him feel used, and slightly nauseated when people openly ogled him. But Thomas - Thomas knew him. Thomas knew his mind and his soul, if such a thing existed, and Jimmy’s fit body and pretty face weren’t the only part of Jimmy he cared about. Jimmy wanted Thomas to see him, to desire him, and he found he was aroused just by the act of being looked at. Definitely gay then, he thought with some dismay.

“You coming in?” Thomas asked, “It’s just a bit warmer than our swim in the sea.”

Jimmy looked around - the lifeguards chair was empty, so he dived gracefully into the water, swam completely under Thomas and surfaced beside him.

“Show off,” Thomas teased, righting himself.

Emboldened by their privacy, Jimmy pulled Thomas close and kissed his cheek and then his lips, tasting chlorine.

“I ah, I thought you didn’t want to take advantage of my - what was it? Vulnerable state?” Thomas mocked.

“That was last night,” Jimmy replied, “we’d been drinking.”

“I feel drunk now,” Thomas said, kissing Jimmy again, “drunk on you.”

Jimmy blushed and ducked his head, “You are soppy.”

“The others went to the slides,” Thomas said. “They didn’t want to wait for you. We should go join them, they’ll be expecting us.”

“So?” Jimmy made to kiss Thomas again, but Thomas dodged.

“So won’t they wonder what we’ve been up to?” Thomas said, eyebrows raised.

“Let ‘em wonder,” Jimmy replied. He wrapped an arm around Thomas’s waist and pressed their bodies together beneath the water. Thomas rested his head on Jimmy’s shoulder, his breath warm in the crook of Jimmy’s neck. Jimmy looked out over the ocean and gently swayed Thomas in an aquatic waltz.

“I haven’t felt peaceful and unafraid for a very long time,” Thomas said. “But here, with you, I almost feel normal again. Like the past two years of my life are just some bad dream that will be forgotten by tomorrow.”

“If I could make you forget it, I would,” Jimmy replied.

“Mmm, perhaps you can - for a few minutes,” Thomas grinned suggestively.

“More than a few minutes,” Jimmy said, put out. “Hours.”

Thomas just laughed joyfully at that, and Jimmy was so pleased to hear it he couldn’t bring himself to be offended.

The moment was spoiled, as Jimmy was certain many future moments were destined to be spoiled, by the arrival of Alfred. He ran and dive-bombed them, covering them both with a wall of water.

“You two coming or what?” he spluttered. “The girls are going to the spa now. Come on the Snowstorm slide with me will ya?”

“Go on it by yourself,” Jimmy coughed, chlorine burning his nose. “Or d’ya need me to hold your bloody hand?”

“It’s got one of them little inflatable boat thingies, it needs more than one person,” Alfred explained. “Four really, but you two will do I suppose.”

“Charming,” Thomas said, but with no real venom.

~

They indulged Alfred and went on slide after slide until Jimmy’s eyes were sore from all the chlorine and Thomas complained his legs were aching from going up the mountain of stairs over and over.

“I think I’m going to head to the sauna,” Thomas said, and Jimmy nodded.

“Sounds good!” Alfred said guilelessly, oblivious to Thomas and Jimmy’s desire to be alone.

The sauna had an amazing plate glass window facing the coast which furnished the pine-panelled room with a remarkable view of the ocean. Daisy and Ivy were both inside, their hair in bright blue towel turbans, some kind of odd seaweed-paste masking both their faces. They looked like something that had crawled out of the black lagoon.

“Having fun?” Ivy asked - all three men nodded. “See? I have the best ideas,” she gloated. Alfred plonked himself down between Daisy and Ivy; Jimmy and Thomas perched on the smaller bench opposite, Jimmy on the upper seat and Thomas between his knees on the seat below. Thomas let his head lean against Jimmy’s thigh and Jimmy absentmindedly played with a strand of Thomas’s hair.

“I’m glad you’re having a nice time Thomas,” Daisy said - Jimmy couldn’t detect any sarcasm in her words. She seemed to speak to Thomas more politely than she’d ever spoken to well, anyone. Honestly, Jimmy wasn’t sure that she actually liked him at all - she definitely didn’t put up with his nonsense like Ivy and Alfred did. Sometimes though, when Jimmy was in one of his bad moods and being particularly difficult, Daisy would do something really nice, like baking him these amazing little chocolate brownie things or bringing him a cup of tea, like she knew that was wasn’t being nasty on purpose and that he was actually just...sad. Jimmy would never willingly admit it, but he actually thought Daisy was alright. “You seemed like you needed something good in your life,” she added, looking pointedly at Jimmy.

Thomas nodded, obviously reticent to talk about his personal life in front of the others. “I ah - I’ve not had a great couple of years if I’m honest,” he said. “Though things do seems to be looking up.”

“What are you going to do once our holiday is over?” Ivy asked tactlessly.

Jimmy felt Thomas stiffen. They hadn’t talked about that yet - Jimmy was hoping he could convince Thomas to come with them, but with Philip looming over them he wasn’t sure if Thomas would feel he could.

“Oh, I’ll be alright,” Thomas said flippantly, but he wrapped a hand around Jimmy’s calf - he was worried. Jimmy let his hand rest on Thomas’s shoulder. Ivy opened her mouth like she was about to say something else but Daisy cut her off.

“Come on,” Daisy said, “it’s time to get this stuff off our faces. We don’t want to end up with chemical burns.” They left, and Alfred leered at them both as they walked away - Ivy’s bikini was extremely revealing but even Jimmy thought he was being obnoxiously lecherous. And he wished Alfred would chip off for a bit and leave him and Thomas alone.

“This is the life, innit?” Alfred said. His normally pasty face was bright red from the heat of the sauna. Neither Thomas or Jimmy answered, so he gracelessly tried again. “So are you two, y’know?”

“What?” Jimmy frowned.

“Goin’ out?” Alfred clarified.

Silence.

“Dating?” Alfred continued.

The elephant in the room was more like a herd by this point.

“Err...doin’ it?” Alfred scratched his head.

“For pity’s sake,” Thomas muttered.

“S’not really any of your business,” Jimmy hissed.

Alfred shrugged, “Alright, no need to get shirty,” then said, “I’m too hot, I’m goin’ for a swim.”

Once he’d finally gone Jimmy sort of wished he’d come back. Thomas was silent and still - perhaps he was just enjoying the peace.

“So...” Thomas started. Perhaps not then.

“So...?” Jimmy replied. Thomas turned to look at him.

“So I know you’re having a, well, gay existential crisis,” Thomas said and Jimmy pulled a face, “but, well,” he shrugged, “are we?”

“I don’t know,” Jimmy replied. “I’m not exactly an expert of these sorts of things.”

“Ah yes, your whole week of being in a relationship,” Thomas smirked. “That’s - promising.”

“I think I lasted a long time considering I’m probably gay and it was bloody Ivy,” Jimmy said.

“I’m just messing with you,” Thomas grinned now and ran his hand up Jimmy’s leg. “But I - well you know my baggage.”

Jimmy nodded, “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me,” Thomas replied. “I’m not likely to be easy to be in a relationship with. And I don’t even know if I can go back to Downton - I mean, Philip...”

“I know,” Jimmy swallowed hard, “and I’m not likely to be easy to be with either. But - but I want you.”

Thomas smiled licentiously, “ah, do you indeed?”

“Not like that,” Jimmy smirked, “well, not just like that at any rate. I think - you should come and stay with me. After the holiday is done.”

“Back at Downton?” Thomas frowned, “But - Philip...”

“He lives in Ripon, right? What’s the chances of you bumpin’ into him in Downton or York?”

“Not much I s’pose...” Thomas looked horrified at the thought though.

“An’ if he did he’d have to go through me first,” Jimmy hopped down and squeezed in next to Thomas - the bench was small so he was practically on Thomas’s lap. “He’d soon back off once I got hold of him. I won’t let him hurt you again Thomas.”

“It’s not just him I’m worried about,” Thomas said.

Jimmy thought he caught his meaning, “I’d never...you can’t think I’d do that?”

“You can hurt someone without raising a hand to them,” Thomas said quietly.

“Oh,” Jimmy said finally. It stung a little that Thomas didn’t trust him but he understood - Thomas had been hurt so very badly.

“I will try to never hurt you - at least not deliberately at any rate,” Jimmy cupped Thomas’s cheek, stroking his cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “Obviously I’m not an expert at relationships so I’m sure I’ll make mistakes.”

“Well that’s normal,” Thomas shrugged, “I’m not expecting you to be perfect. I’m just concerned you’re not ready. For a relationship,” he clarified.

“Why’s that then?”

Thomas thought for a moment, like he was choosing his words carefully, then said; “You don’t seem to be comfortable with being in a gay relationship - yet.”

“Well I’ve never done it before,” Jimmy thought it was rather unfair to expect him to be a hundred percent comfortable with something that was so outside his comfort zone.

“And I’m worried that you are too concerned with what other people will think,” Thomas finished.

“I don’t give two hoots what other people think,” Jimmy lied.

“Hmm,” Thomas didn’t seem convinced. Jimmy gave him his best puppy dog eyes and ran his hand up Thomas’s thigh. “Don’t get me wrong,” Thomas said, eyeing Jimmy’s wandering fingers, “I want to. I want to date you and come back to Downton with you and just be with you. I’m - I’m scared.”

Jimmy’s fingers glided over the soft material of Thomas’s swimming shorts and came to rest on his softer stomach. “I know,” Jimmy said, “I understand why. But I guess you can stay afraid and let Philip keep ruining your life like he has done for the last two years, or you can say fuck it and try to make a go of things with me.”

Silence for a beat.

“Fuck it,” Thomas said, leaning in and kissing Jimmy soundly.

~

The swimming/slide/sauna combo had left everyone oddly tired in that boneless, soporific sort of way that often came with not really doing anything all day. They picked up take-away Chinese food on the way back to the cottage and ate in the kitchenette, five chairs squeezed around a table that was only really meant for four. Thomas kept grinning at Jimmy from around forkfuls of noodles and Jimmy couldn’t help but grin back, his feet on Thomas’s lap under the table. Alfred made some mulled winter punch concoction on the hob - it filled the cottage with the scent of cloves and cinnamon and turned out to be as potent as rubbing alcohol. After a couple of cups Ivy was ruddy cheeked and dancing around the kitchen to some god-awful pop music she was blasting from her phone.

“Dontcha have any real music on there?” Jimmy groaned.

“Whatcha mean?” Ivy frowned, “S’good for dancin’ - the miserable old rubbish you like ain’t good for dancin’.”

“Old rubbish?” Jimmy was incredulous. “As if.”

“What kinda stuff do you like?” Daisy asked. Her cheeks looked like they’d been pinched.

“Ugh - I’ll show ya,” Jimmy said, marching over the the upright Schiedmayer. He plonked on a few keys - it was pretty much in tune, not that Ivy, Daisy or Alfred would notice. He started with the first movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata - after a few bars Thomas came and stood next to the piano and stared at Jimmy with complete awe - enough so that Jimmy nearly fluffed up his fingering.

“S’lovely,” Daisy said wistfully, “an’ sad.”

“Yeah but you can’t dance to it,” Ivy moaned. Thomas stared at her like he wished she’d spontaneously combust.

Jimmy rolled his eyes and immediately segued into Hozier’s Take Me to Church. “Fine, have it your way,” he said.

“Can’t really dance to this neither,” Alfred said.

“Shows what you know,” Thomas sneered. “Come here Daisy, we’ll show him how gentlemen dance.”

Daisy giggled but allowed Thomas to hold her by the waist and he started to lead her around the room in a sort of foxtrot - only there wasn’t really enough room for it and they’d both had more to drink than the should have, so they ended up falling gracelessly on the sofa, laughing. Jimmy was pleased that Thomas was having fun - the booze seemed to have relaxed him. Jimmy was also oddly jealous that he wasn’t the one being foxtrotted around the sitting room.

Thomas must have read his mind because he said; “Ivy, stick something on will ya?” She obliged - it was that depressing one by Sam Smith. Ivy had driven him mad by listening to it on repeat for days after one of her many breakups with one of her many boyfriends. Thomas held his hand out for Jimmy to take - he hesitated. Was he really going to dance with Thomas, let himself be led, in front of Ivy, Daisy and Alfred?

“Fuck it,” Jimmy said.

He took Thomas’s hand - Thomas placed his other hand much lower down Jimmy’s back than was decent and started to lead them in a slow dance. He felt his face flush red - it was like something out of one of those awful rom-com movies Ivy and Daisy had made him sit through. He was about to pull away - possibly run away - when Thomas caught his eye and he had such a soft, adoring look on his face Jimmy forgot he was being watched by the trio. He forgot to be embarrassed or afraid - if you’d have asked him his own name in that moment he wouldn’t have been able to tell you.

“Alright?” Thomas asked and Jimmy just nodded - he didn’t trust himself to speak. He was nestled in so closely to Thomas he could feel the rise and fall of his chest.

“Uhh, Ivy, d’ya wanna...?” Alfred stuttered but Ivy nodded enthusiastically before he could finish, not wanting to be left out. They started a graceless waltz, Alfred immediately stepping on Ivy’s foot.

“I bet we look a bit sharper than them,” Jimmy finally managed.

“I should bloody hope so,” Thomas smiled. “You’re not being led by the human equivalent of a daddy long legs.” Jimmy snickered at that and Thomas squeezed his hand. They were so close their noses were almost touching - it would be easy to lean in and slightly up (Thomas was taller by scant inches) and plant a kiss on his permanently red lips or his sharp cheekbones or his handsome nose.

“Fuck it,” Jimmy said - it was becoming a mantra - and pressed his lips softly against Thomas’s cheek. Thomas turned his head and caught Jimmy’s lips with his own. Their dance slowed to a stop and Jimmy was acutely aware he was now just making out with Thomas in the middle of the living room. The song ended and they broke apart - Thomas gave a breathy laugh and Jimmy suddenly felt very exposed.

Ivy put on something more upbeat and she roped Daisy into dancing around with her - Thomas leaned on the piano and watched, sipping his drink.

“I’m going to get another drink,” Jimmy said, holding up his empty cup, and made his escape to the kitchen. Alfred ambled in after him.

“Aren’t you...worried?” Alfred said, apropos of nothing.

“About what?” Jimmy said, adding more vodka than was strictly necessary to his orange juice - he was already tipsy and really, after that, he wanted to get well and truly sloshed.

“This whole Thomas thing? I mean we picked him up at the side of the road - and he’s turned you gay.”

Jimmy choked on his drink, “He’s what now?”

“You know what I mean,” Alfred rolled his eyes.

“He’s not - that’s definitely not what happened,” Jimmy said.

“I just think it’s all a bit fast really,” Alfred shrugged. “Might not go down well back home neither. Little village like ours, it’ll get around that you picked him up at the side of the road and now your all in love and living together. Just as far as anyone knew you were normal and now...people might think it’s odd, that’s all.”

“In love?!” Jimmy coughed - Alfred had cut close to the bone there, so to speak. “Who said anything about being in love? It’s been a couple of days, I’m not a bloody Disney princess.”

“Well it seemed like,” Alfred started but Jimmy cut him off.

“And I am normal thanks,” Jimmy added, “more normal than you at any rate.”

“No need to get personal,” Alfred said. “Just...it seemed like things were getting serious between you two.”

“No,” Jimmy said, sweating. He’d definitely drunk too much. “It’s not like that. Thomas - he needs help - a, a friend. Somewhere to stay until he sorts himself out. And a bit of a laugh. That’s all. It’s nothing. We’re just having a bit of a laugh.”

“That’s what were having, is it?” Thomas said, holding two empty glasses. He must have come in for a refill and overheard the conversation. “At least we are clear on that. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea, would we?” He abandoned the glasses and stormed outside, sticking a cigarette between his lips.

“So it’s just...a bit of fun?” Alfred looked at the front door as it closed behind Thomas, and then at Jimmy like he was a particularly slow child, “Are you sure?”

~

Thomas avoided Jimmy for the rest of the evening, choosing to talk to Ivy and Daisy instead - Jimmy couldn’t believe he actually preferred their company, so it had to mean he was mad with Jimmy - or worse, upset. After the others went to bed and Thomas settled down on his sofa, Jimmy summed up the courage to broach the subject.

“Thomas?” Jimmy started - he was unsure how to continue.

“Yes?” Thomas replied coldly.

“You’ve been...I mean you seem...upset,” Jimmy said. “Are you...alright?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Thomas said. He wouldn’t look at Jimmy - he pretended to study the god-awful fashion magazine Ivy had left on the coffee table.

“Ok,” Jimmy chewed his lip. It was blatantly obvious that Thomas was not fine and Jimmy was far from ok.

“At the sauna you - you said,” Thomas shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Alfred’s words were on repeat in Jimmy’s mind. He hadn’t really meant anything bad by it but - but other people might take an even less kind stance towards his relationship with Thomas. They wouldn’t understand. They’d think Jimmy was...lesser now. Not normal.

“Is it me? Thomas asked, “Are you ashamed of me?”

“You’re being ridiculous now,” Jimmy replied tersely.

“Am I?” Thomas said. “You blow hot and cold you do - you kiss me and flirt and dance and tell me you’ll always be there for me and fool I am, I believed you and then,” he took a stuttering breath, “then you told Alfred I was nothing. You’ve said you don’t care what Alfred and Ivy and Daisy think of you but - well it seems like you don’t want them to think there’s anything going on between us. So either you are ashamed of me or what? I really am nothing to you?”

“That’s not fair,” Jimmy said, “of course you’re not nothing. You’re - ”

Thomas didn’t let him continue. “So what? You want to be with me but you just don’t want people to know?”

“No I don’t bloody want them to know!” Jimmy exploded. “I don’t want them to know anything about me - us, and if you knew me like you think you do, you’d have realised that.”

“Are you so ashamed of being gay?” Thomas said. “Is it that bad?”

“No, it’s not that,” Jimmy scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Then it is me,” Thomas said.

“No!” Jimmy was panicking a little - he didn’t want to lose Thomas but - but saying it to the others made it real and Jimmy was terrified. If it was real and he admitted his feelings and he got into a proper relationship - he could ruin it. He would ruin it. And he’d be hurt again and alone again just like when his parents had died. He was Jimmy contra mundi and it was better that way.

“I’ve just spend two years in a god-awful toxic relationship - if I’m going to be in another relationship, I need it to be a healthy one,” Thomas sighed. “All I want is for you to acknowledge our relationship in front of them,”

“Maybe - maybe I can never give you what you want then,” Jimmy muttered. He didn’t mean it and he regretted it immediately - Thomas instantly closed off, his face horribly neutral like when they’d first met, and he nodded tightly.

“Then I won’t ask it of you,” he said.

“I think it would be better if I slept upstairs tonight,” Jimmy said, gathering up his pillow and blanket. He didn’t have the energy to keep fighting. He was drunk and tired and couldn’t think anymore. I’d would be better if he slept and calmed down and tried to explain it all to Thomas in the morning. Thomas didn’t respond so Jimmy turned his back and started to climb the stairs.

“Goodnight Thomas,” Jimmy said over his shoulder.

Thomas didn’t reply. Jimmy felt like crying, but instead he made his way up the stairs in a thick silence. He was so drunk and exhausted he fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

~

Jimmy awoke full of regret - he’d hurt Thomas gravely. Not in the way Philip used to, but it was almost as bad. And for what? To cling to his ever fading charade of heterosexuality? Because he was too damn afraid to let himself need someone? Because he gave a damn what other people thought of him? He was a mess alright - perhaps Thomas deserved better any way. He crept out of the bedroom so not to wake Alfred and went downstairs, running a grovelling apology through his head. He’d sit Thomas down and explain everything and hopefully Thomas would forgive him.

Except Thomas was gone.

His bedding was folded neatly on the sofa, the borrowed pyjamas on the top like the depressing icing on an awful mistake of a cake. The fire had gone out without Thomas to tend it and the room was cold. His rucksack and coat were no longer on the hooks next to the front door. His boots were no longer nestled in next to Jimmy’s trainers.

Jimmy felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He threw open the front door and ran down the drive yelling, “Thomas!” just in case he was still within earshot. “Thomas!!!”

A startled seagull squawked in reply.

Silence.

He was gone.

~

When something really, really bad happened to Jimmy he had two basic instincts: 1. lie and pretend he was fine and 2. resolutely not think about it. However, this time his tried and tested technique for not dealing with his problems wasn’t really working. Probably because Ivy and Daisy and Alfred wouldn’t bloody shut up about it.

“Still think it was a bit rude of him to go without saying goodbye,” Ivy said over breakfast. The group had been surprised to learn of Thomas’s midnight flit and Jimmy hadn’t shared his part in Thomas’s departure.

Jimmy poked at his eggs. “I’d have thought you’d be glad. You never wanted him here in the first place,” he said bitterly.

“He were alright though,” Ivy said, “and he seemed like he needed some friends.”

Daisy frowned at Jimmy and said, “Why did he leave then Jimmy?”

“How should I know?” he lied. “I’m not his boyfriend, am I?”

Daisy gave Jimmy a pitying look and shook her head. She leaned over, ostensibly to take the sugar, and whispered “I told you not to ruin it.”

Jimmy sighed - she was right. Like always, he’d ruined it. Thomas had needed him - he’d needed help and comfort and love and Jimmy had let him down awfully. Shame and regret, things Jimmy hadn’t felt much of before, bubbled up inside him. And a deep melancholy like he’d felt after his parents death was hovering in his peripheral vision, waiting for him to examine why he felt Thomas’s loss quite so deeply, so it could fully wash over him.

He was raised from his pensive reverie by a brisk knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Jimmy offered. It was a good excuse to stop answering questions about Thomas. He opened the door to reveal a handsome man with tidy brown hair and a very expensive looking jacket.

“Ah, hello,” he said; his cut-glass accent was as neat as his appearance. “I wonder if you can help me? A dear friend of mine is missing and I’m terribly worried about him.” He stopped and held up his phone - the screen showed a picture of a handsome, blue-eyed, black haired man. Jimmy had to clamp his jaw shut to stop himself from shouting - it was Thomas.

“His name is Thomas Barrow,” the man (Philip?!?) said. “He’s been gone since the weekend and well, he’s sick. He gets confused and lost and ends up hurting himself. I really have to find him.”

Jimmy ground his teeth together and fought back the urge to punch Philip in his pretty, lying face.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen him,” Jimmy lied and forced a pleasant smile on his face. “But we are here for the week. Do you have a number we can call if we do spot him?”

“Ah yes, of course,” Philip fished a business card out of his inner breast pocket and handed it to Jimmy. Jimmy inspected the intricate raised text - sure enough, it confirmed the man was Philip Villiers of Crowborough Architecture. “Call me any time, please.”

“Sure,” Jimmy nodded. He watched Philip retreat down the driveway until he was out of sight then slammed the door. “Shit.”

“What’s going on?” Ivy asked. “Why did you lie to him?”

“Because he’s the one Thomas is running away from,” Jimmy explained. He was going to need everyone’s help if he was going to find Thomas before Philip. His hand was being forced - he’d have to share Thomas’s secret. “It was Philip. He - he hurts Thomas. Beats him up.”

“Like domestic violence?” Daisy said.

“Exactly,” Jimmy nodded. “He tried to strangle Thomas last time, that’s why he ran away. That’s why he was hitchhiking. That’s why I insisted on helping him. And last night we - we fell out. He left. And now he’s in danger and it’s my fault.” He looked earnestly at the trio, “Please, you have to help me find him before Philip does. Please. I,” he was going to say ‘think I love him’ but, remembering his conversation with Alfred, he caught himself and instead said; “I care about him.”

Ivy was white as a sheet and Alfred’s mouth was hanging open.

“Daisy,” Jimmy pleaded - if anyone was his ally here, it were Daisy, “you were right - I did ruin it. Please help me fix it.”

“Alright,” Daisy frowned and put down her half-drunk cup of tea. “We’re in.”

~

The plan was simple - they’d split up and search the local area for Thomas. Whoever found him first would call the others then they’d meet up. Ivy was going to search Robin Hood’s Bay and Alfred would drop Daisy and Jimmy in Whitby. Alfred would then drive along the local roads just in case Thomas was trying to hitch a lift.

“I’ll go into town,” Daisy said. Alfred had dropped them in the supermarket car park. “You head to the beach.”

Jimmy nodded tightly.

“An’ Jimmy - we’ll find him,” Daisy said. “And you can fix it. S’not over.”

He hoped she was right.

Jimmy walked briskly towards the marina - it was fairly quiet in town as the weather was threatening to be unpleasant again. He checked the arcade, the café where they’d had lunch, the Ship Inn and then the beach. The colourful little beach huts seemed to mock him with their cheerfulness - Jimmy had the urge to set them on fire and dance around the burning wreck like some sort of mad, Thomas-summoning rain-dance. The beach, like everywhere else he’d checked, was a bust.

“Where are you?” Jimmy said. A distant rumble of thunder seemed to give answer. Jimmy’s phone buzzed angrily in his pocket - they’d agreed to check in by text after a couple of hours.

*No sign here - Ivy x*

*Nothing yet. A*

*Spotted by street sweeper AM. Looking. Daisy*

Jimmy typed with the speed of someone who did the majority of his communication via text message:

*Walking back into town, will continue search with D. - Jimmy*

*Picking up Ivy. Meet you in on supermarket car park. A*

They all met on the aforementioned car park around ten minutes later. Jimmy couldn’t think of a time he’d felt more panicked and helpless. The weather had taken a turn for the worse again and was drizzling persistently - this made Jimmy ever more determined to find Thomas. Daisy has followed her lead and discovered Thomas had been in Whitby that morning: he’d sat on a bench in the town centre drinking a coffee. But his whereabouts since were a mystery. Their only hope of finding Thomas was if he was still in Whitby; with Scarborough and Hull to the south and Middlesbrough to the north, it’d be like finding one particular needle in a pile of other needles if he’d fled the seaside resort already.

“You don’t think that awful Philip already found him do you?” Ivy asked, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

“No,” Jimmy said, although that was his fear too. “Let’s go over the place again. Look in every café, pub, shop, public toilet - anywhere he might be sheltering.” They all picked a direction and walked with purpose - Jimmy’s feet led him over Whitby bridge to the other side of the marina. He ended up at the base of the one-hundred and ninety-nine steps; he didn’t much fancy the climb but he wouldn’t let something small like almost two hundred steps stop him finding Thomas.

Jimmy was pretty fit but even he was out of breath by the time he reached the summit. The view from the top of the steps was something to be marvelled at on an ordinary day but it wasn’t an ordinary day for Jimmy - he felt like he was at a Sliding Doors kind of turning point and that his whole future could go one way or the other shitty way, depending on whether he found Thomas or not. Ignoring the scenery, he used the vantage point to look for Thomas in the marina, but he was too high to really see anything - the people below looked like tiny toys being moved by some invisible hand. He tramped through a windy, deserted graveyard and checked inside the church - nothing. The great gothic ruins of Whitby Abbey overshadowed the church spire like some terrifying and gigantic monster looming over its prey. Swathed in drizzle and the patchy mist that was rolling in from over the ocean, the Abbey was as creepy as you’d expect from the place that inspired Bram Stoker’s Dracula. There was no avoiding it though - he had to check it out.

The museum and little gift shop were closed for the season but you could still wander around the ruins for a small fee. Jimmy thought it would be an odd way to spend the little money Thomas had, but he had a weird feeling it was the sort of place Thomas might mope about in, so he was loathe to leave without looking inside just in case. The ruins were even more intimidating up close, especially as the sun was already dipping in the sky, lengthening the shadows like stretched, twisted fingers scratching at the ground. The wind bustled through the broken walls and paneless windows, whistling and whooping as if it found the whole situation hilarious. Jimmy rounded a corner and there, sitting on one of the broken columns, was Thomas.

Alive.  
Well.  
Alone.

Jimmy had to stop himself from yelling and sprinting over like an over-enthusiastic puppy. He ducked behind a decaying wall and shot off a group text.

*Found. Whitby Abbey. Come up - Jimmy*

“Ah, I knew you’d be here,” a voice started. Jimmy looked up, startled, but the comment wasn’t directed at him. He peered around the wall to see Philip approaching Thomas. “You always had a flair for the dramatic.”

“You found me then,” Thomas said. “How?”

“You turned your phone on, idiot. I have it tracked you know. I knew you were around here somewhere, didn’t take long to track you down. And as much fun as this little game has been, it’s time to go,” Philip made to take Thomas’s arm, but he resisted.

“An’ what if I say no?” Thomas replied. Jimmy felt a surge of pride.

“It won’t go well for you,” Philip said darkly. “Look around - there’s no one here to care what happens - especially to someone like you.” It was true; the ruins were deserted.

Thomas faltered - he’d spent so long being broken by Philip he didn’t have the strength to stand his ground.

“Actually, I’d care,” Jimmy said, stepping out from his hiding place. “Thomas doesn’t have to go anywhere with the likes of you.”

Thomas’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Jimmy? What are you doin’ here?”

Philip regarded Jimmy with distain. “Yes, what are you doing here?” he said. “This morning you told me you’d never seen Thomas before.”

“I lied,” Jimmy shrugged. “And I’m here to take Thomas home with me.” He walked over with what he hoped was a confident swagger and placed himself directly between Thomas and Philip. Thomas immediately took hold of Jimmy’s coat sleeve and held on like a frightened child clinging to his mother.

“Well well, you do move fast Thomas,” Philip laughed derisively. “It’s only been a few days and you’ve already found someone else? He’s pretty, that’s for sure. And a toy boy too! Bet he doesn’t know what he’s got himself into though. Do you, Jimmy?”

“I know enough about you not to trust a word that comes out of your mouth,” Jimmy snapped. “And I know an abusive arsehole when I see one.”

Philip’s smile faltered. “Thomas is coming with me, if he knows what’s good for him. And you. You don’t want to get involved with this Jimmy. He’s not worth it.”

“I am already involved,” Jimmy said, his chin tilted up in defiance. “And he bloody is worth it. He’s worth ten of you.”

“He’s a stupid, foul little slut and he’s worth shit,” Philip spat. Thomas recoiled, his back against the pillar. “He deserved everything he got and he knows it, that’s why he stayed with me. He deserved it all.”

Thomas started to cry behind his hand, and the sound of his soft, broken sobs flipped a switch inside Jimmy. He swung for Philip with all his might and, catching the other man off guard, his fist connected with Philip’s jaw with a mighty crack. Philip toppled over backwards, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, and he landed in the grass with a thud and a yelp of pain.

“Thomas didn’t deserve any of it, but you bloody well deserved that!” Jimmy exclaimed. “And you’ll have more if you don’t clear off and leave Thomas alone. For good. You hear me?”

Philip lay on his back in the grass and laughed. “This isn’t over,” he said.

Jimmy spotted the lanky frame of Alfred running gracelessly towards him, flanked by Ivy and Daisy. “It’s definitely over,” he stated. “You’re about to be very outnumbered.”

“Stay down if you know what’s good for yer,” Alfred said breathlessly, looming over Philip. Jimmy grinned - Alfred had his moments. He was an idiot, but a loyal one.

“Thomas!” Daisy said, “We were all so worried. You shouldn’t have taken off like that.” She looped her arm through his and Ivy attached herself to his other side.

Thomas stared at the rescue party, dumbfounded. “What are you all doing here?” he asked.

“We were looking for you,” Alfred answered, “we were dead worried this guy had found you. Jimmy were beside himself.”

“You were all worried about me?” Thomas’s voice shook a little, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Course we were,” Daisy patted his arm, “we weren’t about to let him find you first.” She shot Philip the darkest look Jimmy had ever seen and he’d been on the receiving end of Daisy’s ire before.

Jimmy approached Thomas cautiously - he didn’t know if Thomas was still angry or upset with him. It didn’t matter though, Thomas was safe and if he had to endure a dressing down in front of everyone then so be it.

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said. “For last night - I was an idiot.”

“You were,” Thomas said - he was clearly aiming for a neutral response but his eyes were soft. Jimmy dared to hope that he could fix it.

“And I’m sorry I had to tell everyone your secret - I needed their help to find you,” Jimmy nervously reached out and cupped Thomas’s cheek - Thomas leaned into the touch and covered Jimmy’s hand with his own. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if something had happened to you. I - ah, I needed to tell you how sorry I am and that I’m never going to let you go again.”

Jimmy was very aware that Ivy and Daisy were staring at them both with ridiculous grins plastered on their faces but he realised, in that moment, he didn’t care. He was tired of worrying about the way other people viewed him; tired of pretending to be someone he wasn’t; tired of not letting himself need anyone; tired of being Jimmy contra mundi.

“Fuck it,” he swallowed hard, gathered himself and kissed Thomas right there, in the ruins of Whitby Abbey, with Daisy, Ivy, Alfred and Philip watching.

Thomas was still for a moment, then his hand tangled into Jimmy’s hair and he kissed him back and oh! it was like everything Jimmy had never felt with anyone else, he was feeling it all now, for Thomas. He pulled Thomas closer, his hands on his back, until they were pressed together.

“Woooo!” Ivy hooted and they broke apart, grinning.

“Oh god,” Philip snarked, rolling his eyes, but was silenced by Alfred kicking him lightly in the leg.

Thomas rested his forehead against Jimmy’s, “You mean it?” he asked and he sounded so hopeful, so desperate for it to be true, Jimmy felt ashamed to have made him wait to hear it.

“I do,” Jimmy looked away, abashed, then said, “I’m falling for you Thomas.”

Thomas beamed and entwined his fingers with Jimmy’s.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jimmy said, “come back to the cottage with us.” Thomas nodded.

“And you,” Jimmy turned on Philip like an angry dog. “You stay away from us. If I ever so much as think I see you anywhere near Thomas, I will have you arrested and I will make it my personal vendetta to get you sent to prison.”

Philip just smirked from his prone position in the dewy grass. His jaw was turning a lovely shade of purple where Jimmy had socked him one.

“And I’ve got all these witnesses,” Jimmy gestured to Alfred, Daisy and Ivy, “who would be happy to stand up in court and testify to your behaviour.”

The smirk slid off Philip’s face.

“And I’d love an excuse to hit you again, so you’d better not try anything,” Jimmy finished. He took Thomas by the hand and led him away - the trio followed.

“I’d love an excuse to hit you an’ all,” Alfred called back over his shoulder, “so I’d listen to Jimmy if I were you.”

The storm that had been threatening Whitby had skirted the edge of the town and had mercifully moved on over the mainland, leaving an orange-streaked afternoon sky in it’s wake.

“Now that’s a view and a half, innit?” Alfred noted, looking down from the top of the one-hundred-and-ninety-nine steps. “Very romantic.”

“Come on, let’s walk on ahead,” Daisy said, dragging Alfred and Ivy away. “Give ‘em time to talk.” They started off down the stairs leaving Thomas and Jimmy at the top. They stared at each other for a long moment.

“I really am sorry,” Jimmy started, “about last night. I don’t deal with emotions well, least of all my own. I was so afraid of ruining it, of losing you, that I nearly did. I - ah - I’m so scared of letting anyone in.”

“S’alright,” Thomas said, “I know you find it hard. I think the daring rescue makes up for it though.”

“I’ve never hit someone like that before,” Jimmy grinned, “I felt like a knight in shinin’ armour.” His smile faltered, “I’d never hit you though, not ever. I only did it because he was sayin’ those things about you, I couldn’t bear him hurting you like that. I wanted him to realise that I’d protect you and he wouldn’t be able to touch you ever again.”

“I know,” Thomas nodded, “it’s alright Jimmy, I trust you.” He kissed Jimmy softly on the cheek, then the lips.

Jimmy beamed - he knew what it meant to have earned Thomas’s trust, after all he’d been through.

“After we leave Robin Hood’s Bay,” Jimmy started, “when we go home to Downton, please come with us. You can stay in our house, no one will mind. You can stay as long as you want - forever if you like.”

Thomas smiled and ducked his head, “Are you sure?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been of anything,” Jimmy replied. “Thomas - I’m only really myself when you’re in my life. I’ve spent so many years being someone else, being uncertain and now - now I feel like I finally know what I’m about. And you’re the reason. Because I - ah,” Jimmy looked away at the distant ocean below, “I love you.“

Thomas was silent for a beat, then he took Jimmy’s face in his hands and looked at him so ardently it made a blush rise up Jimmy’s throat.

“I love you too,” he said finally, and he kissed Jimmy like their lives depended on it.

~

The mood back at the cottage was jubilant - like they’d returned from some great victory that needed to be celebrated. The weather was chilly but pleasant; the sky was clear and the late autumn sun was trying its best to warm the little courtyard garden. Alfred had dusted down an old iron barbecue and was cooking something that smelled fantastic whilst tinny pop music blasted from Ivy’s phone speaker; Daisy and Ivy were huddled around a roaring chiminea, drinking about five-thousand calories worth of hot chocolate. By the sound of the giggling they’d laced it with liquor of some sort.

Thomas and Jimmy had claimed a bench in a sunny corner and were wrapped up in a blanket and each other.

“This is - bliss,” Thomas sighed.

“You have very low standards,” Jimmy pulled himself closer until he was almost sitting in Thomas’s lap.

“Clearly,” Thomas said dryly.

“Will you do something for me?” Jimmy asked.

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“Not that,” Jimmy rolled his eyes, “I’m being serious. I’m trying to talk about feelings and all that shite.”

“I forget, do you like talking about feelings?” Thomas teased.

“Oh forget it,” Jimmy pouted. Thomas kissed his pouting lips and jimmy couldn’t help but melt into a smile.

“Don’t be like that,” Thomas said. “I’m listening.”

“I - ah - I suck at relationships,” Jimmy admitted. “I’m probably going to mess up again.”

“Probably?”

“Oh shut it,” Jimmy poked Thomas in the ribs. “I will mess up again. I - please don’t run off when I do. I was terrified last time that you’d gone forever - please don’t do that again, even if I’m an idiot. Give me chance to explain things first. Give me time to adjust to - well, this.”

Thomas nodded seriously, “I will. I’m sorry - I probably overreacted before.”

“Probably?” Now it was Jimmy’s turn to tease.

“Alright,” Thomas said, chagrined, “I did overreact. Apparently I also suck at relationships.”

“Well this bodes well, doesn’t it?”

Thomas thought for a moment then said; “No - it’s good. It means we’re on even footing, it’s not one person dragging the other along and doing all the emotional labour. We’ll be working it all out together.”

“I like that,” Jimmy said, “equal power. Although you do have more experience with certain things.” He winked in what was supposed to be a coy fashion.

Thomas smirked, “Yes, but it’ll be fun to teach you all about that.”

“I think I’ll be a good student,” Jimmy said. He found the hem of Thomas’s t-shirt and walked his fingers up under the fabric. Thomas shivered - Jimmy hoped it was from more than just his cold hands.

“Food’s ready!” Alfred announced. “Stop canoodling and come get some before it burns.”

“I’m not sure if you’re worth it Jimmy,” Thomas muttered.

Jimmy gave Thomas a questioning frown.

“Having to live with Alfred,” Thomas clarified.

Jimmy smiled, “You get used to him. He’s...not as bad as all that.”

They all ate their fill of rather expertly grilled burgers and kebabs, huddled around the little chiminea for warmth as the sun went down. Alfred kept making embarrassing attempts to flirt with Ivy; Ivy resolutely ignored him and made small talk with Daisy; Daisy made eyes at the unaware Alfred. Life was, it seemed, getting back to normal.

Thomas yawed theatrically, stretched and made to start tidying up. Jimmy got the hint and helped him, hoping it would hurry the others along. Before long everything was tidied away and the trio had all disappeared into their respective bedrooms for the night.

Jimmy spent even longer in the bathroom than he normally would have, preening his hair and cleaning his teeth twice to be sure. There was an air of suspense about the evening - he was hoping Thomas might start his education. Just the thought of it made a hot blush rise up his neck. By the time he had steeled himself and made his way downstairs another storm had rolled in off the ocean and was battering the cottage so violently it sounded as if someone was throwing marbles against the windows. Thomas had been fiddling with the fire and it was now roaring in the grate, filling the room with welcome warmth.

“You took your time,” Thomas said - he was wearing Jimmy’s pyjamas again with the top three buttons undone revealing a little chest chair. “Didn’t know if you were coming back down.”

“Of course,” Jimmy said. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room for a moment then sat down on the sofa Thomas had used as a bed.

Thomas came and sat beside him and said; “Alright?”

Jimmy nodded nervously.

“Relax will ya?” Thomas laughed and put his arms around Jimmy. He leaned in and kissed the end of Jimmy’s nose. “You look like you’re afraid I might eat you.”

“Ah,” Jimmy raised his eyebrows, “I might like it if you did.”

Thomas chuckled, “You do love a cheesy line Jimmy. But be careful what you wish for.” He licked his red lips lasciviously and Jimmy was overcome with the urge to press his lips all over Thomas. He kissed Thomas’s cheek, his neck, his jaw, his forehead and the corner of his mouth. Thomas took Jimmy’s face in his hands to still him and pressed their lips together - Thomas’s tongue dipped into Jimmy’s mouth and Jimmy let out a indecent moan.

“Oh Thomas,” he said, breathless, “would you...” All the lights went out with a pop, and they both blinked in the darkness.

“Must be the storm again,” Thomas said. Jimmy was disappointed when he extracted himself from Jimmy’s arms, got up and looked out the window. “Hmm, the lights are on everywhere else?” he noted. “Must’ve blown a fuse or something. D’ya know where the box is?”

“Oh leave it till morning,” Jimmy replied. “We’ve got the fire.”

“Alright,” Thomas closed the curtains and climbed back under the covers. “Where were we?”

Jimmy clambered onto his lap, “About here, I think,” he said. They kissed languidly for a while, Thomas’s hands in Jimmy’s hair. Jimmy was about to suggest they move on to something more when a large crash outside startled them both.

“Shit, what was that?” Thomas said.

“Maybe the storm blew something over?” Jimmy suggested. Alfred’s car alarm started to wail like a dying animal.

“That’s gonna wake the whole neighbourhood up,” Thomas frowned, “where’s his keys?”

“Probably in his jacket - you’re not going out there are you?” Jimmy asked.

Thomas extracted himself from under Jimmy, “Yeah, I can’t listen to his car doing that all night. We’ll never sleep.” He rummaged in Alfred’s coat pocket and fished out the keys. “I’ll be back in a second.” He disappeared out into the darkness and a few seconds later the car alarm stopped, punctuated by a blip-bleep.

Silence, apart from the wind and the rain.

Jimmy waited for Thomas to reappear, but the seconds stretched into a minute and then two, and he didn’t come back.

“What the hell is he doing?” Jimmy frowned. He picked up his phone, flicked on the torch setting and peered out the front door. He could see the roof of Alfred’s crappy car just the other side of the stone wall, but he couldn’t see Thomas.

“Thomas?!” Jimmy called. Nothing. “What the hell?” He stepped out into the rain and made his way towards Alfred’s car, leaving the door open behind him. “If this is supposed to be a joke or something I don’t think it’s very funny.” He was almost at the gate when he stepped on something shiny. It was Alfred’s car keys - he’d recognise the dumb chefs hat keychain anywhere. He pocketed the keys and peered into the night but he couldn’t see anything or anyone.

“This is...what the hell?” Jimmy was dumbfounded. He decided to go back into the cottage and wake the others - he walked back but shit, didn’t he leave the door open? It was firmly closed now and the Yale lock had engaged itself. Jimmy was debating what to do, shivering in his pjs, when he heard a muffled cry - it seemed to come from the courtyard garden. Jimmy pressed himself against the wall and peeked around the corner - there was someone in the garden, but it was so dark he couldn’t see. No, there were two people, one lying on the wet slabs and a man looming over him.

“I told you this wasn’t over,” the man said - and Jimmy felt his stomach drop as he recognised the voice. It was bloody Philip.

“Alright,” the prone man whispered - it was Thomas. “Alright, I’ll come with you - just don’t hurt Jimmy.”

“I should teach you a lesson,” Philip crouched down brandishing something - something that caught the moonlight - something shiny and metal and sharp. “And if you scream I’ll teach Jimmy one too.”

Jimmy looked around in the gloom for a weapon - he spotted a big stone that had almost come away from the wall. It was heavy and slippery but he managed to prise it free. He edged along the wall towards Philip.

“Maybe,” Philip said lowly, “maybe you’ve become a bit too much trouble, Thomas.”

“I - I’ll be good,” Thomas said. Lightning illuminated the garden for a split second and Thomas spotted Jimmy, his eyes wide. “Philip, please, I’m sorry,” Thomas started - he was stalling. Jimmy crept closer and raised the stone up above his head.

“Are you indeed?” Philip said. He pointed the knife - it was definitely a kitchen knife - at Thomas’s face. Jimmy was close enough now that he could see his terrified expression

“I am,” Thomas stuttered, “I’ll be good from now on, I won’t make you angry anymore.”

Jimmy was almost within reach when Philip turned suddenly and slashed at Jimmy - the knife caught his arm and cut through his pyjama shirt. Jimmy dropped the stone and screeched, clutching his arm. Thomas jumped up from his position on the floor and tackled Philip from behind - they crashed down into a pile of flailing arms and legs. The knife skittered across the slabs and Jimmy made a dash for it, blood and rain dripping from his fingers. Philip somehow got a hand on Jimmy’s ankle and tripped him - he fell to the floor, hard, his head connecting with the loose stone he’d dropped earlier. He saw stars and fought the urge to throw up, his injured arm and head both pulsing painfully with each beat of his heart.

Thomas gave a strangled cry - Jimmy struggled to pull himself, dazed. He managed to get to his hands and knees - he looked up to see Philip with his knees on Thomas’s chest, the knife to Thomas’s throat.

Jimmy had never been brave or selfless or noble in his life. But for Thomas - for Thomas he would be as brave and selfless and noble as he had to be. He scrambled to his feet, picked up the stone, his arm screaming, and charged at Philip.

“Get of him you complete bastard!” Jimmy shouted, bringing the stone down against Philip’s head. Philip turned at the last second - the blow was glancing but enough to knock him sideways. Jimmy didn’t see the knife come up until it was too late - the forward momentum of hitting Philip with the rock had thrown him off balance and the slabs were wet and slippery - he couldn’t stop. He didn’t even know it had gone in - all the way in to his soft stomach, somewhere down near his belly button, until he reached down and found the handle sticking out of his pyjamas.

“JIMMY!” Thomas screamed and grabbed Jimmy by the shoulders as he fell to his knees.

“Uh, shit,” Jimmy clutched at Thomas sodden pyjamas. “Thomas, Thomas, I - I have to - I don’t feel good.”

“Shh, you’re alright,” Thomas said, but he was crying. He petted Jimmy’s hair and held him close. “You’re going to be alright. Don’t fall asleep.”

“Ok...I’m tired though,” Jimmy replied. He suddenly felt more bone-achingly tired than he ever had in his life. He expected it to hurt more, but it didn’t really.

“I know, I know,” Thomas stroked Jimmy’s cheek with red-stained hands. “But you have to stay awake for me.”

Jimmy dimly registered some commotion in the garden - he thought he heard Alfred shouting and Ivy crying and Daisy on her phone, but it was hard to focus on anything.

“Thomas,” Jimmy forced himself to concentrate on Thomas’s grey-blue eyes. “Thomas, don’t let him ruin your life forever - don’t let this ruin it. Be free of him. I hope you find a bit of happiness, I do.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Thomas shook his head, “you’ll be there to help me. We’ll do it together. We’ll be happy together.”

“I love you,” Jimmy coughed and tasted the unmistakable copper of blood on his lips, “Thomas I love you, I don’t want to leave you.”

“Don’t Jimmy,” Thomas was sobbing now, “don’t give up, please.”

“I’m cold,” Jimmy was shivering uncontrollably, “I’m cold and...Thomas I’m scared.” I’m dying, he thought.

Thomas pulled Jimmy closer, wrapping his arms around him. Daisy’s pale and tear-stained face appeared for a moment as she draped her coat over Jimmy.

“Shh, you’ll be alright,” Thomas soothed.

“Oh, I’ll be dandy,” Jimmy said. He smiled and closed his eyes.

~

Jimmy had only been in a hospital three times in his adult life: the first had been when he’d accidentally broken a toe during a football game. The second had been when he’d sprained his wrist at work opening a stupid jar of jam and had to have an x-ray. The third had been that awful day when he’d had to identify his parents bodies. But there was something so unmistakable about the smells and sounds of a hospital ward that Jimmy knew he was in one before he’d really regained consciousness.

His mouth tasted revolting, like he’d been licking an old ashtray, and he was desperately thirsty. He was vaguely aware of someone holding his left hand and gently stroking the back of his knuckles. His eyes were sticky and dry at the same time and felt as if they were full of grit - he had to blink five or six times before he could open them properly. He was indeed in a hospital - there was a blue curtain around one side of his bed, screening off the rest of the room, and a rain-splattered window to the other side. He was hooked up to several beeping machines and tubes and drips and all sorts of medical paraphernalia. He felt like - well, like shit, but he was alive.

Thomas was sitting next to Jimmy’s bed in a hideous orange plastic chair, leaning forward on the edge of the bed so he could hold Jimmy’s hand between his - he had his eyes closed but couldn’t possibly be asleep in such an uncomfortable position. He looked terrible - his face was ashen and he had a newly-stitched gash on his forehead. Jimmy raised his aching right arm and felt the pull of stitches somewhere beneath the bandages. He gently touched Thomas’s cheek and his eyes shot open.

“Oh - Jimmy!” he exclaimed, “You’re awake, oh thank god!” Thomas embraced Jimmy gingerly, as if he was made of fine crystal. Jimmy buried his face in Thomas’s neck and just breathed him in - he only pulled away when Thomas started to cry.

“S’alright,” Jimmy smiled, “I told you I’d be dandy.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” Thomas pressed his forehead against Jimmy’s then peppered his nose and his lips and his cheeks with kisses. Jimmy caught his lips with his own and kissed him deeply.

“Sorry, I must taste disgusting,” Jimmy said.

Thomas shook his head, “I’ll forgive you, you’ve been unconscious for three days.”

“Shit, three days?” Jimmy said, then it dawned on him to ask; “Philip?”

“Arrested, in prison for trying to kidnap me and trying to kill you,” Thomas replied. He closed his eyes, fighting back more tears. “I’m sorry - I’m so sorry you nearly died because of me.”

“Because of Philip,” Jimmy said, “this is not your fault - it’s his. And I’d do it again - all of it - for you. I love you Thomas.”

Thomas was silent for a beat then he cupped Jimmy’s face in his hands and kissed him soundly. “I love you too,” he said against Jimmy’s lips, “I’ve never had someone who’d risk their life for me - I’ve never been loved like that before. It’s - you make me feel like I could do anything, like we could do anything, if we are together.”

“We better stay together then - forever,” Jimmy added.

The moment was spoiled, as Jimmy was certain many future moments were destined to be spoiled, by the arrival of Alfred.

“Oh shit you’re awake!” he exclaimed. “Daisy, Ivy, get in here, he’s awake!”

“Oh good, everyone’s here,” Jimmy muttered as Daisy and Ivy piled in to the now-overcrowded cubicle.

Ivy and Daisy took turns to fuss over him, kissing his cheeks and smoothing his hair and talking over each other, whilst Alfred fetched a Doctor.

“Oh Jimmy, we’ve been so worried,” Ivy said.

“You were so brave,” Daisy added.

“We couldn’t believe it,” Ivy went on, “we thought you were dead.”

“That awful, horrible Philip - he’s in prison,” Daisy continued.

“Thomas hasn’t left your side, he’s been so upset,” Ivy interjected.

“You could’ve been killed,” Daisy chimed in, “he stabbed you and...”

“It’s so romantic though, like something out of a movie,” Ivy interrupted.

“Enough!” Thomas exclaimed - Ivy and Daisy fell silent. “You’re gonna put him back in a coma. He needs peace and quiet.”

As if on queue the doctor arrived and shooed everyone except Thomas out of the cubicle. She spent a good fifteen minutes checking Jimmy over, asking lots of questions about his pain levels and how he was feeling, which Jimmy tried to answer honestly without sounding too pathetic in front of Thomas. The doctor also checked his wound and changed his dressing. Jimmy resolutely didn’t look at his stomach during the latter - he didn’t want to even think about how long it would take to get his abs back in shape after he was healed. The long and the short of it was he was doing pretty well for a guy who’d been stabbed and nearly bled to death a couple of days earlier. He’d been incredibly lucky that the knife hadn’t hit any important squishy bits inside him and he’d probably be able to go home in a few days.

“Even when you are discharged, it’ll be bed rest only for a couple of weeks and taking it easy for another few weeks after that. We don’t want you to burst those stitches,” the doctor said. “Do you have someone to take care of you?”

“Yes, I’ll be there all day every day,” Thomas said without hesitation. “I’ll make sure he’s well looked after.”

The doctor nodded approvingly, “Great. Someone will come and check on you in an hour.” She left them alone, closing the blue curtain behind her.

“The police are going to want to speak to you,” Thomas perched on the edge of Jimmy’s bed and held his hand. “They’ve already taken statements from the rest of us.” He shook his head, “There will be a trial, I can’t imagine he’ll plead guilty.”

“S’alright,” Jimmy said, “the guy stabbed me, if I have to go to court naked and do a dance, I’m game. He’s going away for a long time.”

“How - how can I ever make it up to you?” Thomas said. “You saved me from him, in so many ways, and you risked your life to do it.”

Jimmy thought for a moment then grinned and said; “You could start by gettin’ me a cuppa - I’m parched.”

~

Epilogue

Jimmy thought maybe his life now was compensation for all the years of misery he’d had before. Thomas has moved in and Jimmy had gone from sharing nothing of himself with anyone to sharing his room, his bed and his heart with Thomas. Thomas had been the best and most loving nurse - he‘d done everything from sponge baths to changing dressings to washing Jimmy’s clothes. Jimmy mused that Thomas had perhaps missed his calling as a nurse or a carer or something. Alfred, Daisy and Ivy had all done their share too and had taken turns to cook for Thomas and Jimmy every night since Jimmy had been discharged.

In the end Philip had changed his plea to guilty, in exchange for a lesser sentence, and so they had been spared the trauma of a trial.

“He’s a bully,” Jimmy shrugged, preening his hair in the mirror. He examined the small teardrop shaped scar on his lower abdomen - it was a barely noticeable reminder that Jimmy had come so close to death. “Bullies are all cowards underneath. He’ll be shitting himself now, knowing he’s going to prison for a long time. And he’s not getting out. He can’t hurt us anymore.”

“You’re right,” Thomas said, lying across their unmade bed in just his boxers. “But I keep expecting him to pop up for one last scare like some horror movie villain.”

“An’ if he did I’d just defeat him again,” Jimmy grinned. “All heroic like.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, “You’re never goin’ to let that go, are you?”

“Never,” he said. “Now as much as I like seeing you like that,” he looked Thomas up and down for effect, “get dressed. I’ve got something to show you.”

“What?” Thomas asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Jimmy replied. Thomas looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but he did as he was bid.

Jimmy had been planning something for a few months - god knows he’d had the time to think about it with all the bed rest. He’d sold some shares his parents had left in their will and a few heirlooms and had scraped together just enough money to do something really special for Thomas. He’d been in limbo for a while, trying to decide whether to buy a house for them or invest the money, when he’d seen The Grantham Arms had been put up for sale. It had been a bit of an old man’s drinking pub and had definitely seen better days, but it was a quirky old stone building in a nice location - it had potential. The crappy decor and the landlord’s unpaid gambling debts meant he was willing to negotiate and Jimmy was signing on the dotted line before he’d really had much chance to think about it.

And now he was about to reveal the big plan to Thomas and he was nervous as hell.

“Where are we going?” Thomas stuck a cigarette between his lips and looked at Jimmy questioningly.

Jimmy leaned in and stole the cig, “It’s a surprise. If I told you, you wouldn’t be surprised, would you?”

“Have it your way,” Thomas said. He replaced the cig he’d lost to Jimmy then took his hand.

It had taken some getting used to - being gay and out in a village was akin to becoming some kind of sideshow attraction. But being with Thomas - brave, funny, clever, loving Thomas, gave Jimmy the confidence to say fuck it and be true to himself.

“Ah, ok, we’re here!” Jimmy said.

Thomas looked at the boarded-up Grantham Arms, perturbed. “And where is here exactly?”

Jimmy fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. “Come in!”

Thomas followed and Jimmy flicked on the ceiling lights - only about half of them worked and they gave off a frankly unpleasant orange glow. Most of the dated furniture had been pushed to one end of the room and stacked haphazardly on the small stage, leaving a large empty expanse of ugly, threadbare carpet between the front door and the bar.

“Now I know it’s a mess - we’ll have to decorate he whole place but it’s just cosmetic,” Jimmy explained. “Alfred looked at the kitchen and he said it’s good, it has everything we’ll need to make a go of things.”

“Jimmy - what are you saying?” Thomas was mystified.

“And Alfred’s agreed to come be our chef - I know he’s a lummox but he knows what he’s talking about when it comes to food,” Jimmy said.

“Our chef?”

“Yes and I’m thinking about poaching Ivy or Daisy or both if we can afford it. And I’ll play piano and sing and wait tables and clean and whatever else needs doing.” Jimmy gestured to the bar “You’d be in charge though. Manager an’ all that. You’ve even got a little office.”

“Manager?” Thomas looked around at the tired decor and the dusty bar and the chairs piled on the small stage. “I don’t understand Jimmy.”

“I know it’s not London but we could work up to that,” Jimmy said.

“Jimmy,” Thomas interrupted - he had tears in his eyes, “is this - is this ours?”

Jimmy grinned, “Yes love, it’s ours.”

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Thomas replied. “You didn’t have to spend your inheritance.”

“I did it for us - for you,” Jimmy replied, taking Thomas’s hand, “I’d do anything for you. I want to make you happy - you deserve it. You deserve the world an’ I plan on giving it to you.”

“It’s perfect,” Thomas smiled and kissed Jimmy deeply, his hand on the small of Jimmy’s back. “You’re perfect and I love you James Kent.”

“I know,” Jimmy replied with a smirk, then said “love you too, Thomas Barrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> So thanks for reading. I started this fic in 2015, abandoned it on my laptop and found it a month or so ago and decided to finish it. I hope the characters aren’t too OOC but I tried to convey a Thomas who’d been broken - we saw a little of this in Downton near the end. And a Jimmy who’s a gay disaster as always. 
> 
> This subject matter was sort of therapeutic to write about for me for reasons I don’t want to go into here. I know it’s sensitive so I appreciate any comments about it, for better or worse. 
> 
> The Sam Smith song referenced is ‘Stay With Me’.


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